My eldest grandson is a man now. He graduated from high school last month and he has big plans to go to a school called Devry. He has older friends that already go to Devry, and they walk around here like they own the place and eat all my fudgesicles. One of these smartasses always salutes me when he comes in. Boy ain’t even military. Sure, in war times I was real big on salutes. I used to salute left, and salute right. I was givin’ out salutes like candy. But this ungrateful hump needs to cool off for a few years in a Federale prison, if you ask me.

What good is a salute when you barge into a man’s house, throw your jacket on the floor and start powering fudgesicles? Is this what they call “respect” down there at the Devry Institute? What are they teaching the youth today? Then the boys start using the television and they don’t even want me in the room. I can stay out back watching the bushes for only so long, you know. And I can’t be in the rumpus room because grandma’s in there with several matronly bitch friends and they’re having a meeting. I’ve tried heading in to chat during one of those bitch meetings and it’s no picnic. They didn’t get my jokes, and grandma just about peed when I did my little dance. All they want to do is put on their little fashion shows and say things like “that sash is just darling.” --No place for a man.

So if I’m not in the yard I can either fall asleep or go sit in the garage. The garage isn’t all that bad, though. We’ve got a small freezer in the garage where we keep all of our unopened fudgesicle boxes. The humps don’t know about it, so they can be in the living room thinking we’re all out, while I’m back here in the dark enjoying my impressive supply. And no cleaning up after myself out here! This saves loads of money on Bounty, so I recommend it.