Hello. My name is Hey Grandma. I’m called this by a girl named Little Al.

Little Al is a happy girl and very, very bright. You can have long philosophical conversations with her; though when she loses interest, the conversation often deteriorates to poo-poo-caca-doo-doo.

Little Al likes to play tricks on people. She likes to tell jokes. She likes to fabricate far-fetched stories, and lies with such finesse, she’s almost believable. But most of all, what Little Al likes to do is shock Hey Grandma.

Little Al is small and cute, and not afraid of anything. She digs up worms, picks up bugs, and has no aversion to anything gruesome or nasty. She thinks farts are very, very funny. Occasionally, she adds an expletive to a robust conversation with perfect elocution. And uses it in the correct context, which only makes Hey Grandma proud.

When playing games, Little Al is bossy. And by bossy, I mean she makes up rules to increase her chances of winning. She cheats every single time. At her insistence, Hey Grandma plays grocery store with her. Little Al is the manager, the cashier, and the customer. Hey Grandma is simply a silent  observer.

When Little Al grows tired of being the boss of everything, she announces with deadpan certainty, “In my old life, I was a cashier at McDonalds. I fired everyone. I flew to the moon. I now eat only french fries. And dirt.”

Little Al tries her best to shock Hey Grandma. But nothing works. So she tries harder. In public.

“Hey Grandma! I’m going commando!”

Hey Grandma takes a peek. Sure enough. But not shocked. Little Al takes it to the next level.

“Hey Grandma! Look at Coco’s bunghole!”

Hey Grandma takes a cursory look at the back end of Little Al’s dog. With a perpetually curled-up tail, who hasn’t seen Coco’s bunghole. Not shocked. Little Al tries again.

“Hey Grandma! Watch. I’m gonna eat a worm!”

Little Al opens her mouth, a writhing worm suspended in the air. She stares down Hey Grandma with her steely gaze, waiting for a reaction. But Hey Grandma is not impressed.

“Bon Appétit,” says Hey Grandma dryly.

Little Al can be very, very loud. Or she can be very, very quiet. When Little Al falls silent, it’s time to be worried. Very, very worried. Because that’s when she’s plotting.

With lips pursed together and fierce determination chiseled onto her angelic face, Little Al stares at Hey Grandma. Hey Grandma stares back, and waits. The devious wheels churning in a child’s mind takes time.

Finally, her expression softens and a sly grin appears. It is evident that Little Al has come up with something so spectacularly offensive, it will shock even Hey Grandma.

“Hey Grandma…I love you.”

Another win for Little Al.