– Anonymous After a night of proper, horizontal celebration about our engagement, I decide to sneak out of bed and make a nice breakfast for my princess. Cooking is a passion, and a great way for me to decompress. I slide on my boxer-briefs, and stumble foggy-eyed into the kitchen. I open the fridge, grab eggs, and begin searching beneath the stove for a pan. Suddenly, I hear a spoon clinking against the side of a glass. Where am I, at a wedding reception?I turn to find Grandma seated at the breakfast nook wearing reading glasses while browsing the Union Tribune.“Be a good boy and warm up my coffee,” she orders as she slides the mug in my direction.“Huh?”“Oh, and put on a shirt, will you? I wouldn’t want to find one of your silver chest hairs in my eggs.”“Grandma, what are you doing here?”“You may call me by my proper name, Silver.”“Which is?”“Gertrude Aspinwald ... Ms. A, if you like.”Silly name. “Fine,” I agree as I carry the pot of coffee over and top off her mug.
