It is alway good to share!
I have mentioned that I used to live with my grandparents, while my parents were away on assignment. These were truly special times for me. My grandparents were unique, at least for a five year old. My "Papa" was a retired civil lawyer, and my "Nannie" was strictly a house wife--although she ran the farm when they owned one, managed the household of 7 siblings. It didn't matter what was on her plate, breakfast was always ready, as was lunch and dinner. Laundry was completed sometime in the morning, for you always saw the clothesline filled at breakfast, and nothing was the same on the line. My grandfather would ring the bell from up in his bedroom at promptly 6:45 am, and not two minutes after the bell rang, my Nannie would be traipsing up the stairs with a tray fresh toast, marmalade and tea. This was before breakfast mind you, for that was served promptly at 7:30am. My Papa would come downstairs at 7:15 formally attired, yet he was retired. Together, they were the most loving couple that you could ever imagine, they truly admired each other. Even at 5 and 6 years old, I could see their eyes light up when they caught a glimpse of each other.
A strict household, I would say so, but not in a disciplinary way, more of a structured organised way. A different household, maybe my North American standards, yes, but my Nannie and Poppa were of Irish descent, born in England and relocated to Canada at very early ages. But they kept their customs and ran their household with such structure it would embarrass the Queen of England.
I really feel privileged knowing them as a couple, and especially for living with them for 3 years at such an early age. Later on, we did move back to Ottawa, and our house was only two blocks away from where my Nannie and Poppa were, so visiting was a daily routine for me. I was sixteen by that time, but I would never miss a day. Even if it was just to help Nannie go to the Dominion grocery store to get their daily needs. I miss those days too.
But, from the way I've described them above. I make it sound that it was so structured that there was no space for levity---furthest thing from the truth. Yes they were a polished couple. My Popa would never be caught without a suit and tie on, and my Nannie would wear a "house dress" underneath a full apron, and underneath that was a more appropriate dress in-case of company. That would be unless there were evening plans, then the above must removed and replace with formal attire, with enough time left not to leave anyone waiting. That's the way they were. But like I said, there was a very special item that they shared with each other, and that was humour. My Nannie was the joke teller--always clean--but cerebral, yet funny for its day. My Poppa was the practical joker, and tormentor. Nothing was funnier to him then pulling off the special practical joke--nothing harmful--and watch his eyes light up and twinkle when he new he got you. My Nannie would tell the punch line to her joke and finish with the most contagious giggle that you have ever heard. They were a pair.
It must be because they were of UK descent that they (especially Poppa) found this particularly funny. My Poppa was a public farter. He loved to fart At least, that's my impression. But he never ever would admit that he did it. He always had a scapegoat, and that was my poor Nannie. I can remember this clear as it happened yesterday, we were at a theatre and the movie playing was Bambie. They took me to the theatre whenever there was an appropriate children's show on.
In the very middle of the movie, at the most quietest moment in the theatre, my Poppa let the loudest one out. You would think that that would be the end of it, but no. My Poppa started to tsk his tongue in utter disgust and said quite loudly to my Nannie, "Dirty, dirty Diannorrah, shouldn't you stand up and shake yourself out."
My Nannie's name was Catherine, but he called her Kitty, unless she was the brunt of a fart joke.
We were in an elevator once. Now that really is closed quarters, and there were quite a few people in the elevator with us. He did it again, looked down at my Nannie and simply said, "Kitty, you should be ashamed of yourself."
Out for dinner in a restaurant, yes, my Poppa did it again. He didn't even flinch, but just said loudly of course, "Kitty, you keep that up and all the ships will go off course." It was a foggy night, but Ottawa is kind of land-locked.
This was my youth, and for some reason it is very special to me. The relationship that my grandparents had with each other, was beyond description. But, I think, their truly special tie to each other was they both had a very melded sense of humour.
PS. You would think that most people would be really disgusted by my Poppa's flatulence, but I never mentioned the killing stroke. After my Poppa just outed my Nannie for doing something she was completely innocent of, she would giggle uncontrollable as if it was a punch line that she just told. I did say that her laugh was contagious, but every time my Poppa would set this up, and Nannie started giggling, everyone would start laughing within earshot. The elevator scenario, everyone missed their floor for they were laughing, and that was back in the days where there still was elevator operators. He was in stitches giggling.
Just thought I'd share this, because as my Poppa used to say, "One can 'shiite themselves, but we fart others. It's called sharing."