I honestly thing Grandpa turned off his hearing aids on purpose that June Day.

I mean, why else would he get all excited about a can of stewed tomatoes??

We kept screaming at him to get into the storm shetler, as a tornado was coming, but Grandpa refused to budge.  He kept arguing with us, saying that he was hungry and nothing was "gonna keep him from eating his favorite meal, stewed tomatoes". Even as the sky got blacker and blacker and the wind picked up in intensity, Grandpa Philpott insisted on eating his tomatoes.

When Daddy tried to get Grandpa out of the chair, Grandpa Philpott whacked Daddy on the head with his crutch.  "Consarn it all!" he bellowed, "Can't a guy eat in peace??  Why you standing around, yelling like a bunch of cuckoos?  I want to eat my tomatoes; I'm starvin'!!"

"TORNADO COMING!!" Daddy screamed.  "TORNADO COMING!!"

That didn't faze Grandpa Philpott in the least.  He continued eating his tomatoes and he wasn't moving from his spot until he was finished.  Even the lights flickering and then dying out didn't bother him except he said, "Danny, why did you do that??  It's not bedtime! I gotta eat my tomatoes!! Turn the durnfool light back on and quit foolin' around!!"

Daddy rolled his eyes.  Without a word, he helped Grandpa from his chair and got him into the storm seller.  All the way, Grandpa Philpott screamed and raged.  He was fit to be tied.

We all breathed a sigh of relief when we saw Daddy coming down the stairs with his ancient father.  We then joined hands and prayed over Grandpa's ongoing tirade.  He was still raving about not finishing up his tomatoes.  That was when the roof went.  At the sound, all of us screamed ... excepting Grandpa, who continued to rant and moan like nobody's business.

We were afraid what we would find once we emerged from the shelter.  Yet we remained hopeful that our houes was intact and/or didn't sustain too much in the way of damage.

Once the all-clear was given and the storms had passed to our east, we went up ... only, to our horror, to discover that the roof had been peeled back as if it were a banana.  Debris was scattered all through the livingroom and hall, and when we got to the kitchen, we were shocked to find a big tree had fallen right onto the kitchen table ... right where Grandpa Philpott had been eating not even fifteen minutes before.

Grandpa looked at the mess, then at us, and said, "I guess God decided I had enough tomatoes.  Looks like a tornado just went through here.  What a mess!"  That was when we discovered that his hearing aids had quit working.  It was no wonder he coudn't hear a word we had said to him.

All we could do was laugh, but at the same time, all of us wanted to strangle him.  We knew he couldn't help being deaf due to his advanced age (he was 96), but we couldn't handle his not using his hearing aids and expecting us to shout just so he could hear us properly.  

I love my Grandpa, but at times he is an absolute moron!!