Life After the Who’s Who Case
It has been two months since Grandma Meow Moses and Tuna stood before Judge Judy.
Their sentences were spelled out clearly.
Tuna was to apologize to Ms. Moses for attacking her. There were to be no further attempts on her life or prison would be in his future. And he was to buff out the tooth nick he had made on Grandma Meow's beloved pearl necklace.
Heartfelt or not, Grandma was to accept Tuna's apology. She was to stop spitting on his food immediately. And she was to put that pearl necklace from Queen Elizabeth, back on around her neck.
Judge Judy pounded her gavel and that was the end of it.
My sweet Sven and I were elated.
Finally we could go home and live like the rest of world does on social media, with a living room full of peace and love and harmony.
It occurred to me on the way to the courthouse that day that many folks who stand in front of a camera on daytime television spewing their guts about their dysfunctional lives, do not have all their shit together.
I had often seen that little brown eyed woman behind her desk in her black gown with the prissy white-lace collar, make her final judgement as the wide eyed defendants tried to spit out a surprised, "no.. but... I wasn't..."
Only to hear, "We are done!"
And that is it.
Once and for all everything is solved with one little bitch calling the shots.
We need more of this.
I admit that I have wondered what happens once the courtroom clears out.
Does that guy write a check for one hundred and thirty-nine dollars? The money his ex girlfriend loaned to him, then boyfriend, to buy that x-box game, which he claims was a gift and she says it was not? And if he does pay her. Will the check bounce?
Does the lazy good for nothing land lord who never even answers his phone, reimburse the unemployed chick with the large bazookas her security deposit, after her claim that the grease found clogging her garbage disposal did not belong to her?
"I don't even like bacon!" she'd exclaimed.
What about the bill that mechanic was trying to collect from the single woman with five kids who's car was missing a few parts that he was holding onto for ransom? Does he give her back her fan belt and her middle child?
With so many mothers against daughters, sons against fathers, sisters fighting with sisters and cousins feuding with cousins, who can be trusted to hold a knife large enough to carve the next holiday turkey?
These are questions I cannot answer.
All I can tell you is how things went here in the black hole just outside Harmony Grove after Judge Judy slammed down her gavel and the Who's Who is Attempting to Murder Who Case was closed.
It was a quiet ride home.
I had Grandma in my car and she was sound asleep.
And then there we were.
Grandma went straight to her heated bed in her assisted living apartment after such a long day.
Tuna sprang out of Sven's car to climb a few trees and kill anything that moved.
Hang on a minute my sister is yelling something.
Louisa wants to know if either one of them followed Judge Judy's orders.
Well, so far Tuna has not apologized to Grandma and he remains a peeping Tom. He still throws himself against the door to her downstairs assisted living apartment in hopes of knocking it down. He has been caught with his claws underneath bedroom, office and bathroom doors, where Grandma is napping safely on the other side. And the nick is not yet buffed out of Grandma's pearl. But that is not entirely his fault.
"Over my dead body will I let that bastard touch it," is what Grandma said when I suggested she let him try.
To be fair, Grandma has not stopped spitting on Tuna's food. But then she never did. That is something Tuna dreamed up. Her spit has always been directed at him. And although she never leaves her apartment without her pearls, to date, she has not placed the beloved necklace from Queen Elizabeth back around her neck.
"Why," I asked them both.
"Did you go to court and spew out your guts about our dysfunctional family on national television, if you were not planning to accept the verdict?"
"For the money," said Grandma.
"For the fame," said Tuna.
Hang on. My sister is yelling something. Again.
She wants to know if Tuna ever took that mandatory anger management class that I failed to mention.
"Yes, Louisa. Tuna did one of those online Kung Fu Yoga training courses."