A story to tell the Grandkids

My grandchildren, once in a cold summer night like this one, in the year of 2009, after your Grandfather Lestat, Uncle Jack and a Funny dog – whose name I don't remember – finished their game of snooker and the usual patrol for the night, we went to a gas station to fill uncle jack's car, the one in that photograph over there.

Grandson nº1: Fill it with what?

Gasoline, in our time we didn't used all this solar energy mambojanbom, we had to use petrol to power our vehicles. It was very expensive, at the time, € 1,345 per liter; it wasn't free like it is today.

But let's move on shall we… Well… as we entered the gas station, there was a girl sitting on the porch, alone in the freezing wind, seeing such sight me and your uncle Jack discussed about the possibility of giving a lift to the poor girl.

Grandpa: Jack, should we offer the girl a ride?

Jack: I don't know Lestat; she doesn't seem to be heading our way…

Grandpa: It should not be a big detour; it shouldn't be further than Nations' Park, we should offer her a ride, it is the right thing to do.

Jack: ok, then you go and ask her if she wants' a lift.

And then your Grandpa full of courage walked the 20 meters from the car to the porch to ask the girl if she needed a lift…

Granddaughter nº1: Was it then that you met grandma?

No, my sweaty, her name was Thelma - the story of how me and grandma met happened long after this day, we should let grandma tell that one, Ok?

Granddaughter nº1: OK!!! But promise to tell us you too, ok grandpa?

Alright my dear,

Where was I? ... Oh I remember! Her name was Thelma, and after the introduction talk, she said that her white knight's, your grandpa's, name wasn't a good name… What do you think?

All granddaughters at the same time: No Grandpa you have a great name (hugs and more hugs)

So I thought so… well after a humiliating five minutes of talk around my name, we finally dropped, our hitchhiker in her neighborhood - a scary neighborhood, dark and no living soul on the street- right after we dropped her, uncle jack was so scared that he went speeding backwards, to get the hell out of there.

Do you want to know what grandpa learned that day?

Grandchildren: YES!

That your uncle Jack is a wussy! Ha ha ha!

Grand Parents stories don't need to have any real lesson, they're just a way to gather the family around for some time.

Lestat of Lioncourt