A pre-holiday season family gathering. 
 

"Hello grandmother," I say then giving her the 13 ounce can (364 grams) of McClintock full flavor tobacco.  

"No rolling papers?" says my grandmother. 

"Black Death grandma," I say as I remove the small packet from my shirt pocket.  Black Death is her favorite brand of rolling paper.    

"Good boy," she says then removing the lid from the can.  "Lord that smells good," she says.

"I'm a good boy grandma?" I say.  

"You're a good boy," she says.

"Hi Norm," says my mother then kissing my cheek.

"Hello mother," I say. 

"Hello Norman," says my sister from behind the bathroom door.  Sandy attends all the family functions but I never see her as she is always in the can with her latest friend.  

"What's she doing in there?" I ask then putting my ear to the door.

"She's freshening up," says my mother then lighting my grandmothers freshly rolled cigarette.     

"Is she alone?"

"She's with her special new friend," says my mother.

"A guy?" I say.

"He seems like a nice man?" says my mother then pulling me away from the door.   

"This is ridiculous," I say.

"Have a chocolate," says my mother then pushing the Whitman's Sampler box near my face.

"I can't eat chocolates knowing people are balling just a few feet from where I'm standing."

"Norman," says my mother.

"You sonofabitch," says my grandmother then throwing her hand rolled cigarette at me.  

"I thought I was a good boy," I say in my grandmothers direction.

"That was then," says my grandmother.  Tobacco is sticking to her bottom lip. 

"What kind of a person throws a lit cigarette at somebody?" I say.

"Look at what you made me do," says my grandmother while aiming her overweight finger at pieces of Black Death rolling paper and McClintock tobacco lying on the rug.

"Mother please," says my mother to my grandmother.  

"Could somebody get me a glass of ice water?" says my sister from behind the bathroom door. 

"What does she need water for?" I say letting my jaw drop then pushing my head forward.

"Let's sit down and figure out our Thanksgiving and Christmas menu," says my mother.

"Clean that mess up, boy," says grandmother.