  God Bless Momma  On Mother’s Day, don’t forget your
grandmother. Lord knows I could never forget mine.
illustration by Deanna Staffo  My grandfather was a Justice of
the Peace and barber in Des Allemands in Louisiana. He went
broke as a barber because he only took in payment that his
customers could afford, which, during the Depression, was often
nothing.  My grandmother was a great Disturber of the Peace who
ran an ice cream store. She went broke selling ice cream, not
because of the Depression, but because she frightened children.
In Des Allemands resided perhaps the only children in America
who were afraid of ice cream.  A cross between Margaret Thatcher
and a wounded badger, my grandmother remained ready to pounce at
the slightest infraction. My father would review the Rules of
Engagement before any visit, which included a prohibition on
just about every activity normal to boys. It was customary when
having dinner with my grandmother that you never drank your
drink until the meal was complete. Ther