![](http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_doonNo6x4iY/Rw7wlzt2vYI/AAAAAAAAAhQ/04F4Kw05Llk/s320/grandma1.jpg)
Wait, what?
![](http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_doonNo6x4iY/Rw7xFTt2vZI/AAAAAAAAAhY/mPD4Fmts1cA/s320/grandma2.jpg)
Oh, that's just Leila trying to swim without getting her broken arm wet.
![](http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_doonNo6x4iY/Rw7xuzt2vaI/AAAAAAAAAhg/GLkgvNGOCas/s320/grandma3.jpg)
I think this one looks poignant, like she's bidding a sorrowful fareful. Or signaling to a rescue team for help.
Usually I thought the broken arm in the sea was a little funny, especially the day that there were so many rocks underwater. I held out my forearm like a butler and Leila grasped my wrist to steady herself.
I couldn't stop calling her 'grandma' then and cracked a couple jokes about how I felt like a caregiver and wondered if anyone needed my address to send a check for my hospice work. Leila mostly laughed and told me to shut up and once, just once, said 'fuck you.' I can't remember if that was before or after I asked if she'd started thinking about what kinds of canes she likes.
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