Date: 2010-04-13 02:52 am (UTC)
Oh how I'd like to sit down with your grandmother and a big bottle of wine. ;)
Mine, being a God-fearing Nazarene, probably didn't have as many enticing tales as yours, (though she could tell some dust bowl stories) did have a creepy song she'd sing to me:
Alice where art thou going?
Upstairs to take a bath,
Her form was a like a toothpick,
Her head was like a tack.
She jumped into the bathtub
And turned the water on.
Oh my goodness, Oh my soul,
There goes Alice down that hole!

Yikes.
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velvetina

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