Gunsmoke, grandma style

"Hey, ask mom what she bought herself."

It's been 3 years and 2 grandkids now and somehow my mother has not received a shirt or sweater that proclaims her fitting title as "World's Best Grandma." So. She bought one for herself at a craft fair.

This news made me crumble and laugh at the same time. She shouldn't have had to do it. My sister contends that she never wore any of the "World's Best MOM" crap, er, goods we gave her in our youth. I remember it differently.

This whole gently poking fun at my mom led to the following fictional scene:

Two women are walking down the street, both wearing "World's Best Grandma" shirts. They stare each other down. One grimaces and says, "this town's not big enough for the both of us, Granny." They circle each other, hands on hips and near purses. The other one sniffs and in a low voice says,"Draw." They both pull out their wallet photos. One clearly has more photos than the other. The losing Grandma takes her shirt off (relax, there's another one under it), drops it to the dusty ground, and hangs her head. As she slinks away she can be heard on her cell phone, "Kimberly, I need more updated pictures of my grandbabies." The winner picks up the dusty shirt, clears her throat, and walks off into the sunset. Cue Western wistful music, fade to black.