In only the second time since I've lived here in North Carolina, we got a decent-sized snow storm. It wasn't quite the snopocolypse that everyone on twitter was forecasting, but the inch of ice made the seven inches of snow a bit more treacherous.
I was pretty excited as this forced my grandmother to stay another week. She, on the other hand, was none too pleased to be stuck here. Despite my attempts to make her stay as comfortable as possible, she's already hitting up my friends of a ride back to Tennessee. I'm kind of at a loss as to how to please her... We moved the TV into her room (along with the children that watch it), I've only let her cook meals that she's insisted upon making, (yes, she DID insist. It's the sink that she's chained to, not the stove), she's called all her old friends who she can't call from home since it's long distance from her house and she's even had time to work on her medical degree, (she's diagnosed my oldest son with ADD and my dog with diabetes.)
Overall, I would have assumed it was a great trip! That was until we had this morning's conversation as she was unloading the dishwasher and I was sipping my coffee:
Mams: "There must be a reason I'm stuck here because I've been praying for the Lord to find me a way out of here for days now and he's just not doing it."
Me: "You're praying to go home?! Is it really that bad here?"
Mams: "Well, it's one of the things I pray for. You know, world peace and do get back to Knoxville."