Oh Edinburgh, you showed Grandma a good time!

The best memories in life tend to be the ones you NEVER expected. This was no exception. After leaving Small Town X and starting anew, I got to go to France and Scotland! It was incredible, and I am so lucky to have gotten to see some amazing parts of the world. There is almost no way to describe the experience that we had. Museums, history, architecture, new friends, and crazy shenanigans were only the tip of the iceberg. However, there was one experience in particular that skyrocketed to the top of the list of best memories of all time. It took place in the beautiful city of Edinburgh in Scotland. To begin with, Edinburgh was my favorite part of Scotland. The sights, the people, the sorted history and this experience were not to be outdone. One evening the four of us girls (that being myself, my best friend, her mom and her 84 year old grandma) decided we wanted to experience the Scottish nightlife Edinburgh/ Mormon style. Which translates into heading over to the Grassmarket where there are a number of pubs to search out some live music and Irn Bru (the most popular soda in Scotland, even more so than Coke). We started out at one called the Last Drop which featured a good ole fashioned noose and was packed full of people, but alas no live music. So we made our way down and ended up in a pub called the White Hart. After finding a booth we discovered that indeed mission accomplished, there would be live music that night. So we laughed and talked and waited for the night to begin. The music started and the man playing an acoustic guitar set was pretty spectacular. Little did I know that the night was only beginning. The pub began to become very crowded as people packed in for the entertainment and lively atmosphere. It was easy to get swept away in the moment, and perhaps do something that may be deemed of questionable judgement later on. Who knew that that moment of madness would come from none other than... Grandma.

Some may say that I played a significant part in the way the following events played out. I say that yes my hand was involved, but there was no way for me to have foreseen what would take place, you be the judge. Somewhere amidst the merriment of this exciting new experience, I found myself enveloped in the arm of a significantly older gentlemen with white hair and mustache, who was more than willing to take this opportunity to make some new friends. I want you to picture this in your mind, so you can truly understand the following conversation. Older man, probably in his sixties, white hair and mustache, thick Irish accent and moves like you would NOT believe. This is what transpired next (as he has his arm wrapped around me I might add):
Irish man: Oh good evening my ladies, I am looking for me next wife and she's got to be rich!
Us: (while laughing hysterically at what he has just said) oh is that so, how can we help you?
Irish man: Well ladies who's available???
Mom: Oh I am married, definitely married (flashes wedding ring)
Irish man: (looking at me and my best friend) oh my wee lasses, you are just to young for me...
Now this is the part where my questionable participation perhaps egged this exchange on.
Me: (now extending my hand to grandma) this is Edith.
Irish man: (now glowing with delight) oh Edith! Show me your bank statements!
Perhaps if this is where the conversation had ended it would have been a funny anecdote, but not the story that will start me laughing at the mere thought of it. After some serious lines and flirting by this Irishman, in a pub in Scotland, the true shock came as he bid us farewell to get a drink. As he quickly hugged and kissed me, my best friend and her mom on the cheek, he got to grandma and do you know what he did? He planted one on her! Oh if I could only capture that moment and her facial expression and post it right here, life would be complete. Let me just say when an Irishman knows what he wants, he goes for it. And what was Grandma's response to this throughout the endless heckling we put her through, "you can't prove a thing". So the moral of this story: when in Scotland, drinking an irn bru and listening to live music, it is not your daughters you need to keep an eye on, but rather the grandma's of the group that are really going to get the party started.