"Don't forget the bunions!" Grammy Crudgiums snapped at her seven- and five-year-old grandsons as they massaged her feet with disgust.
"Arnie, did you bring the anchovies?" Arthur whispered to his younger brother, who nodded and reached into his pocket with one hand, keeping the other sufficiently engaged with his insufferable grandmother's foot.
Arthur had to take over both feet while Arnie unrolled the tin, but once it was open, they each resumed a single foot, and began slipping anchovies in between each toe.
"There we are, finally, you two are learning to take some initiative!" she snapped at them again.
The two brothers stifled their snickers until the space between each toe was filled. Then they ran for the front door.
"Oh no you don't! Get back here you two numbskulls!" Grammy Crudgiums yelled, rolling over off of her daybed.
But when she got to her feet, the anchovies were so oily that she couldn't grip the floor. She began slipping all over the place, unable to keep up with her grandsons. They made it out the door, and by the time their grandmother slid to the front door, her son was walking up from his car to pick the boys up.
"About time, Andrew! Your boys have been tormenting me once again. Why I agree to watch them, I don't know, but you still have a long way to go with them at home." she yelled.
Her son was only mildly aware of her shouting though, as Arthur was explaining what she was making them do, and their retaliation. Their father started laughing, and his boys followed.
"What is it? What is so funny?" Andrew's mother shouted.
"Thanks mom, I'll work with the boys!" he simply said in reply. "Nice footwear, by the way!" he added.
Grammy Crudgiums looked down and wailed as she realized what they had done.
"You miserable little fools, get back here and clean this off of my feet this instance! What am I going to do? I'm a poor old lady! You're leaving me incapacitated!" She yelled as her son drove away laughing with is sons.
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