Wednesday, April 8, 2015

The Judgemental Generation

My latest column in The Laker ...

My mother is a Baby Boomer. 

I'm a Gen X'er. 

My boys are Generation Z. 

There's also the Y, and Post War Generations, and I'm guessing many before that, which I haven't looked up the labels for.

Each generation has seen change, progress, and failure and each has experienced it's own joy and heartache.

But there's another Generation missing from this list. It hasn't yet been given its 'official' label, although it's been around for quite awhile, and gaining momentum every year.

It's a group of people that are an amalgamation of EACH of the most recent generations; Boomers, X'ers, Millenials, and Gen Z's. Not so much the Post War kids.

They have strong opinions, on a variety of topics, and are living in a time when the internet has made it possible to share their every thought, on every subject, and how they would have done things differently, and more importantly, better.

This, my friends, is the
Judgmental Generation.  And we're in it.

It's fine to have an opinion on something. And it's perfectly fine to express that opinion, and even disagree on opinions.  As long as it's done in an mature, rational, non-threatening way.  

It's possible to disagree with a person's idea, without attacking the character of that person in the process.  

It just seems that the more and more news stories I read online, that happens less and less.

We talk about bullying in our schools, but all it takes is to read the comment section of one 'controversial' story online, to see it runs rampant among adults also.

Yes, many say cruel and judgmental things, and hide behind their anonymity, but others really don't care if you know who they are, as long as you're hearing what they're saying.

People don't even necessarily read the story, let alone in it's entirety. They grab the headline, and then let fingers fly with beratement, calls for imprisonment, (or beheading/impalement/death depending), all the while stating how they would have handled the situation much better.

All of this came to a head for me personally with the story of the little boy in Ontario, who wandered outside during the night, and froze to death only feet from the door of the apartment building he'd come out of.

Of course my heart broke when I read that story.  I'm a mom, and a human being, and I have empathy.

My first instinct was to feel bad for the grandparents who were caring for him, and for his parents, who had to wake up to their entire world crumbling, through no fault of their own.

My first instinct was not to head to the nearest online news story, and try to crucify them in the comments.

ALL of them!  Not only the grandparents, but the parents, also.  Who ... again ... weren't even there!

That's what I mean by this Judgmental Generation.  Those who, instead of simply reading the article and thinking, 'What a sad story', and moving on, will say things like, 'Those parents didn't even deserve to have that child! And they should be charged' 


There was one comment I had to reply to.  I couldn't help myself. 

It was, 'Who lets a child that age walk around in the middle of the night anyway?'

Well, really, let's think about that for a second.  Nobody.  Most parents, grandparents, whoever is in charge of that child would have been asleep at 4am when the child wandered out. 

Why?  Why do people do that?

While someone is IN their moment of crisis, that's not the time to kick them. 

Yes, I know, there are internet trolls everywhere, and if you can't handle it, stay offline.

But I don't want to stay offline.  I want to be able to see that people can discuss societies issues without tearing each other apart. 

There's no need.

If you feel you're part of this generation, stop it.

And stop telling people how you would have done things differently.  There really is more than one way to do something, and yours, although YOU may think so, isn't necessarily the best.  Get over it.

So many people judging.  On your clothes, lifestyle, food choices, how you raise your kids.  It never ends.  And really, if you're living your life as a good person, not harming others ... none of their opinions matter.

But they're going to give it anyway.

You have to be a strong person these days, to survive this new generation. They'll rip you to shreds if given the opportunity, but thankfully, weaved in there among the judgmental, are the compassionate and kind and caring and helpful.

THAT'S the generation I want for my kids, and theirs, and yes, my own.

All I ask is just take a minute, and take a breath, and think for a second, before sending that comment/response/rant in that indignant, self-righteous, judgmental tone.  Is it really deserving?  No? Then don't.  Leave them alone and don't be that internet troll.

Don't be part of that Judgmental Generation.  

Let's all try and be a little better than that, for the next generation's sake.  

And our own.


Tuesday, March 31, 2015

Thrift Shop Karaoke. Hmmm ... I Wonder If I Can Patent That?

I had the privilege of being part of an honest to goodness 'feel good' moment today.

One of those spontaneous occurrences that you happen to catch yourself in the middle of, and you walk away from smiling, thinking, 'That was fun/cool/nice and totally unexpected.'

I was in one of my favourite thrift shops, checking out the jackets, when all of a sudden I could hear the young guy working the counter turn up the radio, and ask the older lady who was there with him, 'Hey, is this that Mama song?'

I couldn't help buy smile, and in my head I replied, 'Yes, young one, that is Bohemian Rhapsody.'

'Yes, that's it.', said his co-worker.

He then turned it up just a bit louder, and asked, 'Is this uh ... Queen?'


That was it, I could contain myself no longer and popped my head out from behind the rack and said, 'Stop that! You're making me feel old!'

He just looked at me with a big grin, and started to sing.

He didn't know all the words, or even half of them, but that didn't stop him.

Or his co-worker from encouraging him!

And it didn't stop people from coming over from other parts of the store to check out all the commotion.

At this point, I had moved on to the jewelry, closer to his counter, but still across the aisle, and every now and then would help him out with the words by piping up and joining in for a line or two.

And JUST as he got to the 'Oh Mama Mia Mama Mia Mama Mia let me go ..." this dude with awesome dreadlocks walks in, stops just inside the front door, and takes in the situation.

He looks at the young guy singing, he looks over at me grooving and what does he start doing?  


Yes, at 'Beelzebub has a devil put aside for meeee, for meeeee, for meeeee...'

He's standing there, arms raised high, head thrown back, conducting.

And at the appropriate moment, what did the young guy, the old chick (me) and the dude with the awesome dreads do?

Oh yes .. you know it ... we BANGED those heads in unison!!!

And had fun.

So did, I think, the other shoppers who were trying to pretend they weren't watching. And the older lady, who was behind the counter with the young guy, laughing at us the whole time.

And then it was over.

And like a flash mob, the music went down and we went our separate ways.

As did the rest of the shoppers, who had been milling about.

It wasn't a flash mob, but it was definitely a moment.

One of those spontaneous, feel good moments where a few strangers came together, that I'm glad I jumped into.

Thrift Shop Karaoke.  Hmmm ... I wonder if I can patent that?

I'm going back on Thursday.

Everything in the store is on sale for $1 that day.

And we'll be doing Guns 'n Roses.  Paradise City.


Saturday, February 28, 2015

“Whadda Ya Mean You Don't Use A Cell Phone?”

If you hang out in the Korner, you know that I very recently started writing a column for my local newspaper.

If this is the first time you're hearing about my new gig, catch up, click HERE.

This is my second article for The Laker.  Enjoy!

I'll just be over here in the Korner, doing my happy dance!

Give me your number, and I'll text you.”

It's a phrase heard every day. It's become part of our 'modern language'.

The cell phone is the primary source of communication, information and entertainment for many people. If not for calling, they're used for texting, browsing the internet, sending email, taking pictures, video, playing games, and all kinds of additional features that the phone is equipped with, and most of us never attempt to use.

As a society, we tend to complain how today's kids are 'always on those phones!'.

But what isn't discussed (as much), is that there seems to be just as many adults who have their faces in a phone, as well.

You see them in a restaurant, store, coffee shop, gas station, almost everywhere. You can look around in any establishment and chances are you'll see someone on their phone.

People will walk and talk down the street.

Or worse, you'll catch people in traffic, hand to their ear talking or glancing down to finish that forbidden text message.

Because we all know it's illegal to text and drive.

And while I think they are essential in an emergency situation, and definitely a lifestyle convenience, I think they take away from our personal interaction and communication, and aren't an absolute necessity.

I'm not a big fan of cell phones. There. I've said it.

I was a late bloomer. Most everyone I knew had a cell phone before I did. I just didn't see the need, and as a single parent, didn't want the extra expense, until I was stuck on the highway in storm traffic one day, and couldn't reach the daycare.

I got a phone the next day.

I used my cell(s) for seven years. Mainly for texting, but also calling, games and pictures. I never really used any of the other features and I didn't browse the internet unless I could connect to wifi, because I didn't enable a data plan.

Eventually, one day, I put the phone down, and didn't use it anymore. And today is the one year anniversary of when I sent my last text message, and made my last call.

It wasn't really intentional. It just happened.

I didn't renew the 'pay as you go' plan when it ran out, which is the beauty of no contracts.

I simply decided one day that I was done. The always growing expense wasn't worth the convenience and entertainment. For me.

Both my teenagers have cell phones. They pay for their own minutes. They can always reach me when they need me.

Unless I'm out. And if I'm out. I'm out. You'll get me when I'm back. If it's an emergency, my kids always know where I'll be and would call the business itself.

Everyone else? Call my house, leave me a message, I'll get back to you, old school.

Has it been an inconvenience? Not very often.

There was really only one incident in the past year, where I could have used a cell phone to clarify where I was meeting someone. It would have saved 20 minutes of sitting at the wrong entrance.

But I don't think one major incident of inconvenience in a whole year is that bad.

No, my kids can't track me down at the grocery store to let me know we need milk, or that they want ice cream. But that's OK. The milk will have to wait until the next day, and they don't need the ice cream anyway.

Has it been liberating? Absolutely!

It's never a distraction while driving, I'm never interrupted during a conversation or a meal, I don't have to worry about forgetting to turn it off at public events and become, 'that person', and I don't always feel the constant pressure to get back to someone immediately.

Not everything has to be instant.

I understand that some people would rather not be technologically disconnected from their families this way, especially in case of an emergency. I get that.

I also understand that some may see it as not being a very responsible parent, to not be constantly available every single minute.

To those people, I simply ask them to think back to their own parents. Were they irresponsible people only because they didn't carry a cell phone on them at all times? I know mine were great parents, and neither carried a cell phone until I had children of my own.

And was I an irresponsible mother prior to 2006, when I got my first flip phone? Absolutely not. I believe I did a great job caring for my kids to that point.

Do I still carry the phone with me, to play games and take pictures? Sometimes!

Why not play Trivia Crack or Angry Birds (yes, I play Angry Birds), while waiting for the boy to get his hair cut, or what if I happen to catch that perfect shot, without a camera?

It can still be a free convenience, if you own your phone.

And most importantly, I want to have it for emergency purposes. It may not be active, but I can always dial 9-1-1 if I need to.

That, I think, at the least is responsible.

I get all kinds of reactions from people. Everything from surprise, to envy, to somewhat disapproval.

Whadda ya mean you don't use a cell phone?” That's the most common statement for me, that immediately follows, “Give me your number, and I'll text you.

I've gotten used to answering that question. Just like I've gotten used to going without the phone.

It can be done. It's not that hard. You just put it down, and don't pick it up again.


Go ahead. Try it. Liberate yourself. Even if only for a little while.

Unless, of course, you only need one more category to win that game of Trivia Crack, then go ahead and finish the game first.


Sunday, February 22, 2015

It's Not Like I Got The Shot Anyway

Yesterday I was at the right place, at the right time!

And then I ruined it.

They say that people are so caught up in getting that 'perfect' Facebook moment in a picture, that they aren't enjoying the actual moment itself.

As I was reading through the article, I thought to myself, 'Well, no, I do both.

I don't take my pictures specifically for Facebook purposes.  I've always been a photo maniac, from the time I was little, (and now I'm the chick who takes 500 pictures when I go to concerts), so in a lifetime of picture taking, I've learned to master enjoying the moment, and capturing it.

Or so I thought, until yesterday.

I was letting the cat out, mid-afternoon, and I stood on the deck for a minute to take in some fresh air.

Then I heard it.

It was like a rumble, coming from the back of the house, and it was getting louder, fast.

All of a sudden they came around the corner, a giant flock of birds that looked like a huge sheet flying in the wind. 

There had to be at least 50 of them. Probably more.

They all came to an abrupt stop, landed in my snow-covered hedge a few feet away with a big whoooooosssshh , and sat there.

It was amazing! They just appeared out of nowhere, at the exact moment I was standing there, and there were SO MANY of them, I couldn't help but just stare.

But only for a few short seconds, before the thought hit me, 'I've got to get a picture of this!', and turned and ran for my camera.

When I got back, they were gone.  All that was left was the empty, frozen hedge.

I cursed myself for running for the camera, and missing the moment they all took flight, because I think that would have been just as beautifully cool as their sudden arrival.

If I had stayed, and enjoyed them for only a few seconds more, I wouldn't have missed that moment.

And, it's not like I got the shot anyway.

Guess I haven't quite mastered both after all, so I'm glad I saw them for the time I did.

I have no idea what they were. I'm not a 'bird person'.

They were small, and grey and white with black (I think).  It all happened so fast, and I was so taken aback by their appearance, I wasn't really sure what I was looking at.  But I know they weren't crows or blue jays or cardinals or seagulls.

They might have been chickadees. 

Pic taken from here.

It was simply one of those unexpected 'nature moments' that leaves you going 'Wow ... that was really cool.' and unless you have a camera hanging around your neck at the time, forget the pic, stay and enjoy that moment, because in the next heartbeat, it will be gone, and you will have missed both.

Oh, and the next time you're reading an article on Facebook, or someone else's comment, and think to yourself, that you're not like that article, or comment ... careful ... Mother Nature may decide to call you on that.

Or Alfred Hitchcock.  Just sayin'.


Saturday, February 7, 2015

I Could Have Killed That Police Officer. I Came That Close.

There's a relatively new law (where I live), that came into effect in 2010, which states you must slow down to 60km an hour, and pull over into the lane furthest away, if there is an emergency vehicle pulled off to the side of the road.

I get it.  

I understand why the law is there.

We're all trying to avoid causing another accident.

But sometimes, following this law can actually cause the accident, as I discovered the other day.

Since the weather was finally cooperating on Wednesday and the sun was shining, I decided to go for a small road trip to visit the Bestie.

The double-lane highway was surprisingly good the whole way.

I wasn't speeding.  In fact, I was keeping it at an even hundred, so I was a little bit under the limit.

But on these roads, after the weather we've had, you just never know when you're going to hit a small drift in the middle of the lane(s), or black ice that sends your tires into a spin and your car out of control.

So I was simply keeping up with everyone else, and even managed to pass when I could.

Passing was easy, as long as you watched for the clean stretches.  But like I said, every now and then you hit an unexpected snow/slush patch, so passing was only attempted when necessary (coming up behind someone who was painfully crawling along), and on a clean straight stretch.

I may be a woman driver, but contrary to the belief of some, that doesn't automatically mean I'm an idiot when it comes to driving.

I'm safe and I pay attention.

I was about 10 minutes from Truro when it happened. 

I had come up behind a cube van, and ahead of that was an 18 wheeler without the box on top.  It still had the long trailer part on the back, behind the cab, just no box.

I looked around the cube van and saw the passing lane was clear of snow and slush.


So I pulled out to pass.

I got past the cube van no problem, and since the passing lane was still good, I kept going.

I had just started to pass it. Was maybe three feet or so past the very end of the truck.

All of a sudden, without warning, he started coming over into my lane.

You know those moments, when something unbelievable is happening, and you're thinking ... 'WTF?  Is this really happening?!?!?'

Yeah, it was one of those moments.

I looked over and despite the fact I was yelling, 'STOP!', ' STOP!' ... yes, it was really happening. The 18 wheeler was coming into my lane.

He was going to drive straight into the front of my car!

Did he not see me?

What the hell was he doing?

I immediately let off the gas.

Here I was, driving along, minding my own business, and all of a sudden I'm faced with the decision of letting an 18 wheeler slam into me, or run me off the road into the ditch.

Those were my two choices at the moment.

Instead, I went with option number 3.  The WRONG one.

When I saw the truck was REALLY ready to hit me, I panicked.

I admit it.  I'm an idiot.  I panicked.

I hit the brakes to avoid the crash.

Unfortunately, I hit the brakes at the exact same moment I was going over a snow/slush covered patch in my lane.

I lost control.

Everything else happened in a matter of seconds.

The minute I hit the brakes, I fishtailed, spun out and turned sideways.

When I tried to regain control, I spun out again, and flew out behind the 18 wheeler, into the right hand lane where he had just come from.

When I slid out from behind the truck, I came face to face with a police car, in the middle of the lane, and the police officer standing NEXT TO THE CAR in the middle of the highway.

He was not pulled over safely to the side. He was right in the middle of the freakin' road!

My heart stopped.  Literally stopped beating, I know it. 

Here it was, a gorgeous sunny morning, about 10 am, all was right with my world, and now ... I'm about to smoke a police officer standing in the middle of the road.

What is happening right now?!?!??!!?

I panicked again.  Don't judge.  If you're about to slam into a person standing in the middle of the highway, with your out of control car, you'd panic, too!

I yanked the wheel back to the left and slid again.

There was one and only one thought going through my head.

'Please, God, don't let me hit him!'

I have no idea what that poor man thought, seeing a car coming straight at him (sort of), but out of control.

I didn't make it back into the passing lane completely, but by a few feet, it was enough.

When I yanked the wheel to the left, and the car turned and slid, I went by the police officer and his car ... sideways.

Yes, sideways.  

Might have been diagonally, but it wasn't straight.

My ass end was facing him on the way by, nose pointing at the ditch, and all I saw in that split second when I turned around, was his sunglasses, as his head turned to watch me slide by.

Another second later, and I hit the dry patch, regained control, moved over and fell in behind the 18 wheeler, who eventually pulled over to the right hand lane again.

The police officer didn't come after me, and no, I didn't stop.

There were still cars behind me, although the cube van had backed off when he saw me lose control, so I didn't want to take the chance of hitting the brakes to stop and lose it again.

I shook the rest of the way to Truro.

I probably should have pulled over for a minute, if nothing else, to stop shaking, but I just wanted to get to the Bestie's and get out of the car.

I made the pit stop at Tims, and when I finally got through her door, I said, 'OK, I'm going to have a little breakdown now.'

And I did.

I cried for what had almost happened.

I could have killed that police officer.  I came that close.

I realize now what happened.

There must have been an accident earlier in the morning and a tow truck had come to get a car involved. 

The tow truck was still on the highway, with the car on back, and I believe the police officer was where he was to warn the traffic of the tow truck up ahead.

I get it.

I know why he was there.

I now know the 18 wheeler didn't have any choice but to cut me off, or HE may have hit the officer.

But ... here's the part that bothers me.  The car was already on the back of the tow truck. WHY didn't they all pull off, safely, to the side of the road, at least?

All the stars and planets aligned to put that officer in the middle of the road, and the truck cut me off, and I hit the snow patch all at the same time.

I could have killed that police officer and it all would have happened in a heartbeat.

My life, his life, our families would have forever been changed.

But that's not how the story ended, after all.

Wasn't in the plans for that day.

I simply can't express how happy I am, that the stars and planets also aligned to make sure I slid by him, even if it was ass end sideways, instead of sliding INTO him.

I'm sure he's pretty happy things turned out the way they did, too.

I'm truly sorry Mr. Police Officer.  It wasn't my intention to scare the crap out of you that morning. Thank you for everything you do to keep us safe.

Hope he keeps a change of underwear in his car, just for days like those, and people like me!


Saturday, January 31, 2015

Psssstttt ... Hey Mom! Look Who's On Page 16!

Happy Birthday to me!

Happy Birthday to me!

I've officially been PUBLISHED!

Happy Birthday ... to ME!

Yes, today really is my birthday, but that's not the big news!

The news I've been anxiously sitting on, because a couple of months ago, the most amazing thing happened.

An email landed in my inbox, from a reporter who wanted to know if I would be interested in possibly writing a column for one of our local monthly newspapers, The Laker.





After a bit of conversation, it turned out that we have a mutual friend in common, and it was through her facebook 'likes', that he found this little Korner of mine.

He liked what he saw, thought I might be a good fit for the paper, but still had to discuss it with the editor.

Well, cool!

Then, I heard from the editor and she asked the hard question.  "Which topics were you thinking of tackling?"

Well, crap. 

As you all know, that could be just about anything that's going on in my head at any given moment!

And that's pretty much what I told her.

But then I thought to myself, if this was really it, if this was my opportunity to get something I had written out to the world, somewhere other than my own blog, my very first published piece, what would I want that to be?

Should I submit something I'd already written, or come up with something entirely new?

I knew I wanted it to be something relevant. Something I felt strongly about. Something that could be of personal interest to most anyone reading it.

So I reworked it a bit, to accommodate for the word limit, and chose the blog post I wrote a couple of months ago, about the launch of the Rehtaeh Parsons Society.  

And then I waited.

It was the middle of January, and the next edition of the paper wouldn't be out for a couple of weeks.

This may be my first rodeo, but I do know enough to know that if it's a busy news month in the community, the opinion column wouldn't necessarily make it into print.

But that was OK with me.

I was ecstatic that I was even being given the opportunity in the first place, ( write a column ... for a paper ... GAH! ), so I'd just try again the next month!

Today, my birthday, I picked this up.  It's the newest edition of The Laker.


Psssstttt! ... Hey Mom! Look who's on Page 16!

They published my column.

With my very own by-line!

I have to say, aside from, 'HOLY CRAP! That's me!', that's pretty much the best damn birthday present this girl could EVER ask for!

Well, OK. Maybe finding THIS in my driveway would be the best damn birthday present this girl could EVER ask for ...

 Pic taken from HERE

But seeing my own words and thoughts, in a column I wrote in the newspaper ... that's pretty freakin' awesome, too.


Saturday, January 24, 2015

Once A Mean Girl, Always A Mean Girl?

Mean girls.

You can't escape them.  

They're at your school, your work, yoga class, the grocery store ... go anywhere there's a large gathering of humans, chances are there will be one mean girl in the group.

I don't think I was ever one of 'them'.  At least I certainly hope not.

If anyone has ever perceived me as one, I apologize!

And having two boys, I believe I got off easy in that part of the parenting department, as boys just don't go down that same 'mean girl' path that the girls seem to.

Sure there's some drama, and complaints and they have their arguments with friends, but then it's forgotten.

Not with girls.  WE.  FORGET.  NOTHING!

And we can be cold, and vindictive and spiteful, and downright mean.

No ... really ... I'm serious!

As we get older though, we understand that compassion, and caring and empathy are better qualities to have, than having the biggest circle of friends, and making life hell for those NOT in that circle.

At least ... SOME of us get it.

For others perhaps, it may simply be a case of; once a mean girl, always a mean girl.

While I was home over Christmas, the boys, my mother and I went to visit my grandmother in her nursing home.

She is in her 90's now, and firmly in the clutches of that terrible Alzheimer disease, so she's not exactly the lady I remember so vividly from my youth.

Alzheimer's not only robs a person of their memories, and leaves them a shell of what they once were physically, but it can also do 'strange' things to the person it has afflicted.

One thing that happened to my grandmother, was that she stopped speaking french for awhile.

The woman is French Acadian.  She was brought up French, and raised her own family as French. Yes, she could speak english also, but french was her native language. 

She's a French woman through and through.

But one day, all of a sudden, she would only speak english.  No french.  At all.

Then, just as suddenly, it was back to french again.

Now, she rarely speaks.

She also gets very agitated easily.  

But how could you not? When you don't recognize where you are, or the people around you or why you're there? 

And you can't even get out of your damn chair.

And you're medicated.

How frustrating would that be, to be trapped in your own mind and body?

But one of the biggest adjustments is the personality change.  

She swears now.

My little sweet, polite, respectful, loving grandmother will now curse you out, just as easily as saying hello to you.

No, definitely NOT the woman who has been my grandmother all these years.

But I do understand why she does what she does and says what she says.  

Even if she doesn't realize she's doing it.

That particular day, we (all four generations of us) were sitting in a 'common room' at the nursing home and mom was feeding her lunch.

The boys and I were talking quietly, when all of a sudden, Nanny decided to curse at my mom. In french.

The boys just kind of looked at each other and me, and mom. They may not have understood exactly what she said, but they knew by my surprised reaction, and Nanny's tone that it wasn't good.

Mom simply spoke to her calmly. She's used to this.

The woman sitting at the next table over with her friends however (who are also patients there), decided to make fun of my grandmother.

She made fun of, and laughed at my grandmother.

Never ... ever in my almost 44yrs have I EVER wanted to kick the ass of rudely disrespect an elderly person.

Until THAT day!

I seriously wanted to go right over the table and yell at her.  Tell her exactly what I thought of her making fun of someone who can't control their actions or words.

Get right in her face, and let her know that if she EVER made fun of my grandmother again, it would be ME she would deal with!

I wanted to come down on her and let my bitch flag fly high!

But, I didn't, of course.

She's an elderly woman in a nursing home.

She may not have understood that other people could hear her.

Instead, I simply looked over at her and her friends with my evilest glare, bit my tongue, HARD, and focused on enjoying the rest of my visit with my grandmother.

I can't say it didn't bother me, because it did.

I thought about it after we left, on the drive home, and wondered to myself what that woman was like when she was younger?

Was she a nice person?

Or was she always a mean girl?

Once a mean girl, always a mean girl?

I don't know the answer to that. 

I realize she's there for her own reasons, and may not even be in her own 'right mind', but prior to the incident she was sitting there having a conversation with two other people and then later walked away on her own.

Whatever her health issues, she's definitely in a better place physically and mentally than my grandmother.

Maybe I'm wrong, but I see no other explanation for her actions.

And if I'm not ... Seriously? In a nursing home, making fun of other patients.

That's just mean.

So, here's a little secret for you, for those who don't yet know ...  NOBODY likes the mean girl.

Not at 7 ... or 17 ... or 70.

Don't be a mean girl. 

Be better than that. 

Someone's granddaughter will thank you for it.