Upon a closer examination of Grandma’s funny stories from her youth, in hindsight, many if not all have turned out to be unreported sex crimes of varying degrees.
“I had my first kiss in my neighbor’s shed after the school dance. We were playing spin the bottle and my spin landed on Jimmy Hilbert. As I leaned in to kiss him, he grabbed my breasts. Such a cheeky boy, that Jimmy!”
“Back in the 50s, we weren’t as soft as you all are these days,” Grandma added. “I was smoking cigarettes and drinking when I was 12. Actually, your Grandpa Joe bought me my first beer.”
When asked to elaborate, Grandma Mae explained: “It’s actually a funny story – your grandfather was a senior in high school and I had just finished the seventh grade. He would stop by my school just to see me. Such a gentleman.”
Upon reaching adulthood, you have come to realize these stories are far less cute than Grandma thinks they are.
“I don’t want to upset or traumatize her by pointing out that these stories are about grooming and violations of consent,” you say. “So I guess I’ll just stay quiet and let her slut-shame me for wearing crop tops. Life is wild.”
“Your grandpa was such a bad boy back in the day. All the girls in town wanted him! My mother wouldn’t let me date anyone at the time, but after I woke up one morning pregnant with your Uncle Andrew, she changed her tune! And that’s why I didn’t finish high school. Haha!”
Sources report that at least now you know where you learned how to use humor as a coping mechanism.
