Don't Be Schtupit, Be A Schmartie . . .

A few days ago, I heard a story about my paternal grandmother that I'd never heard before.

Apparently, Oma loved to tease Opa, and found ample opportunities to do so. Shortly before World War II began, she and Opa were voting in an election. He was adamantly against the burgeoning Dutch Nazi Party, and went over the ballot scrupulously with his wife to ensure neither voted for a Nazi Party candidate.

He went to vote. Later, she did as well. When she came back, she acted confused and told him, "I couldn't remember who we talked about. I think I voted for the Nazi Party."

He lost it. "Oh, you're going back right now to change your vote!"

She was teasing, of course.

She passed that teasing bit on to Dad. And he spread it liberally among his children. Good thing for us. That leaves me with only one thing to say. Or sing, rather:

Somehow, I think Oma would laugh at this. Opa, not so much. Sorry, Opa. I still love you. Pity they both died before I got to know them.