The Whack

One day we went to visit my dad's mother Grandma Z., of course we visited quite often.  Let's just say she was not the friendliest woman, or the nicest.  She complained about everything, nothing made her happy.  Can't say as I  have ever seen a smile on her face, remember her laughing!  Some people like to keep things in turmoil.  That would best explain Grandma Z.  This one day we had visited most of the afternoon and Grandma insisted we have milk with cookies or doughnuts, not homemade.  She had a round heavy wooden table in the kitchen with big wide legs that came out from the middle, you could rest your feet on if like mine, did not touch the floor.  We could only one at a time (house rules) to eat.  Unfortunately, I was the first to dunk my cookie into my milk, cause they were so blasted hard.  They must have been old, who would buy them like that?  Just as I had stuck that cookie in my milk glass, to my total shock and surprise, the handle end of a table knife came down hard across the back of my knuckles on that hand.  With a hurt and angry face I scowled to see who in the name of pain had whacked me!!!!!  It was none other than ol' cheerful Grandma Z!!  She shook the knife at me and in no kind voice told me it was impolite to dunk!!  WHAT!!  At home we dunk all the time, even my dad!!  It would have been nice if she gave a warning before breaking my knuckles.  That made my hand go numb for at least 10 to 15 seconds.  So I looked over at mom and dad and they put their head down as they were shaking it back and forth in a no motion.  Diane almost choked on her doughnut because that whack made her happy it hurt and happy it was not her!!  Grandma yelled at Diane for laughing, but Di just stuck her tongue out to her.  The whack made me mad, but what I was most mad at was that my cookies was in the bottom of my milk and dissolving into crumbs.  My luck it couldn't stay as hard as it was before I dunked.  All the way home this was the topic of conversation "the whack".   When we got home, I told my mother's mom, Grandma Y. what had happened and I started to cry.  Grandma Z made me drink all the stupid crumbs at the bottom from the cookies she knocked out of my hand!!  Crumbs in milk are yucky to drink, I think.  So Grandma Y said I could go get one of her delicious homemade cookies before bed, and I could dunk it if I wanted.  Her cookies were so soft and good they did not need to be dunked.  Diane went and got one too, which I did not think was fair, she ate her doughnut and cookies at Grandma Z's.  After "the whack"  I did not eat anything I was too upset, and it tasted old like grandma.  Well now you know too, dunking is not polite, unless done properly in your own home!!