Love in an Orange Peel

These are my grandparents. They are perhaps the cutest couple I have ever seen. I love these people to death. Having been married for over 60 years, I think they have the love game figured out pretty well.

My grandparents travel thousands of miles every year to attend weddings, baptisms, graduations, blessings, you name it. They pack up the car, and drive non-stop until they get there, smiling all the way. They always pack an abundance of meals and snacks for the road and believe me, nobody goes hungry.

My grandparents grew up during the depression. Needless to say, they don’t waste anything. Ever. They use and reuse and can probably find something to do with whatever’s left after that. On one particular drive from Idaho to Washington, my grandma began peeling an orange. She split it in half and handed the rest to my Grandpa in the backseat. “Here Daddy Bear. Have an orange.”

My Grandpa feebly reached forward, taking the orange. “Oh Wheezy Bug [her name’s Lousie] I don’t need the fruit part.” He then removed the orange from its peel and passed the fruit back up to the front where Grandma was happily chewing away. Then, completely content, he began nibbling on the peel.

If that’s not true love, I don’t know what is.

Suddenly, Grandpa got a twisted, disgusted look on his face. “Louise! You left me the sticker!”

Okay, well maybe love can only take you so far.