Remembering little stories

It's nice that there are so many hilarious memories of my grandmother that I keep remembering ones I had almost forgotten about. She was a really strange and eccentric lady. If this wasn't obvious by her wrestling and yodeling careers, then I'll just have to tell you stories.

When I was two years old I was staying at grams' house, playing. There was this bee. Apparently, while I was rolling around on gram's bright orange shag carpeting the bee stung me. Well, Grams was soo angry at that be that she got a hammer and proceeded to chase the bee around the house with a hammer. When she finally did kill the bee, she whacked it a bunch more times, chopped it up into peices, put it in an envelope and sent it to my Aunt who was living in North Carolina at the time. No note. Just a destroyed bee in an envelope. I guess Grams expected Aunt Ida to get mad at the bee also and smash it even more.

Just more evidence on how much she loved us. You never wanted to get on her bad side.