My grandmother died in 1975, but her birthday is coming up, and that always causes me to reminisce. The long walks we used to take to the store on Brunswick Street , the quarters she gave me for meaningless jobs like pulling weeds or washing the sidewalk... Those gems were all good, but the one I reme****er most, the jewel in the crown of grandmotherly advice, occurred when I was only about 10.
We were sitting in a park having just finished collecting some 40 soda bottles for the deposit money on a beautiful spring day. She told me that one day, I would find a wonderful woman and start my own family.
"And reme****er always this thing," she said. "Be sure you marry a woman with small hands."
"How come, Grandma?" I asked her. She answered in her soft voice..