My grandmother is THE hardest person to please. Aside from my own mother, she's one of my biggest critics.
"You weight 105lbs? When I was your age, I only weighted 104lbs. You need to lose that extra pudge.""You feel sorry for those kids starving in Africa? You're Filipino. You should first feel sorry for the starving kids in the Philippines.""Oh, you cooked dinner tonight? You should've added/used less of this and that. This tastes bad." Then proceeds to eat not one, not two, but three plates worth of food.
So, regarding the latter complaint, I decided to take her out for dinner a couple nights back. She didn't want sushi. She didn't want hamburgers. She didn't want anything spicy.
Naturally, I opted for Italian and took her to Olive Garden.
When we came home, I asked her what she thought of the food. Her reply?
"Remember when I told you how bad the toilet paper was in Johnny Carino's? It was even WORSE in Olive Garden. That restaurant is never going to make it. Why would you take me to a restaurant that provides such poor toilet paper?"
My bad, Grandma. My bad.
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