Frumpy Mom: A letter to my grandchildren

A letter to my grandchildren:

There are two of you now, although you’re both in diapers and haven’t yet learned how to read. Hopefully, by the time you’re old enough, people will still be reading and this skill hasn’t been replaced by something else, like viewing everything on screens. (Although, to be honest, I read mostly on screens these days.)

Anyway, I never know when a bus might jump a lane and mow me down, or a giant bird might come down from the sky and carry me away to his hilltop nest, so I figured I’d do my best to give you my 69 years of wisdom now, at least as much of it as can fit into this column. Your mother never followed much of my wisdom, and she’s still paying the price for this, but you should be glad, because one of my bits of wise advice was: “Don’t have two babies in diapers at the same time.”

Luckily for you, beautiful beings, she ignored me, as she usually does, because she’s still at the age where she knows more than I do. But you’re also lucky that she’s a deeply devoted mother who adores you more than life itself, and would happily throw herself in front of a train for either one of you. Fortunately, there aren’t that many trains around these days, so that probably won’t happen. But I adopted your mother when she was three years old, and I still remember the exact moment that I realized the same thing, and that’s when I knew we were a family.

We live in earthquake country. Hopefully, the Big One won’t hit while you’re around, but there are a few simple ways to be prepared that won’t be difficult. First of all, the quake is going to knock down all the power lines. This means that you won’t have any, gasp, electricity. I still remember this vividly from the 1994 Northridge Earthquake. The gas pumps won’t work, and if you don’t have any gas in your car, you can’t get in it and drive out of the hellhole zone. So keep gas in your car all the time, when you’re old enough to drive, of course. Don’t be one of those idiots who always waits until it’s on fumes to fill up. This may make you roll your eyes – when you acquire this skill -– but I was in Zion National Park once when a freak snowstorm knocked out all the power, and we were stuck in an unheated motel for two days because we didn’t have enough gas to drive to the next town, many miles away. And, most importantly, you won’t have any way to charge your phone – assuming the phone towers work – if your car is out of gas.

Also, keep some cash around for emergencies. Remember cash? When the power goes out, the ATM won’t work, the bank will close and the credit card machines will be out of action. No one will extend you credit when you’re trying to buy candles and flashlights. Trust me, I know this from experience. This is the sort of thing that young people think will never happen to them, but remember the maxim: An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure. If the country has finally moved to using grams and kilograms, this will be confusing, but you get the drift.

You don’t have to keep peanut butter in the fridge. In fact, it gets hard and yucky if you do. Never put honey in there either because it crystallizes. Wash fresh egg off any dish you use immediately before it dries into granite. Never park your car (or tricycle) under a jacaranda tree in bloom. Right now, I’m looking out the window at your uncle’s car, which is on the street and covered with beautiful purple blossoms. I told him yesterday he should move it, but he’s also at the age where he knows better. Jacaranda blossoms have a sticky sap that will eat the paint job on any vehicle you park under it, which is one amusing way to tell if people are new to Southern California. Veterans know better, unless they’re my son.

Don’t get a big dog. This is another piece of advice that your mother ignored and came to regret. Big dogs have big massive giant poops and need big, heavy, expensive bags of food. They knock people over jumping on them and their tails can be lethal weapons. Nowadays, small dogs are welcome almost everywhere, even places that are inappropriate, like grocery stores. They also have small dainty poops, and won’t drag you behind when you walk them. Sorry, Beethoven. I’ve had a St. Bernard and you also slobber everywhere. But I like your movies.

And, finally, always be nice to your Nana. That’s me. And, no, I’m not grandma. Grandmothers are old. I’m only 69, so I’m not officially old yet, even if the government thinks I am. Though I don’t turn down those senior discounts. And I’m way better than your other grandma. Just remember that. I’m the one who started your college savings account. And paid for your passport when you were six months old. You’ll thank me later. Hopefully, the giant bird will drop me, so you can do it in person.