The Pear

Technology has finally caught up with my dad.  He invented “The Pear” which today is similar to a facebook “Poke” with a sinister twist.  The hand gesture is made by placing all fingertips (and the thumb) together and pointing it at your victim.  It is a “gotcha” when you consider that he and his grandchildren discovered The Pear during an innocent visit to Medieval Times. 

The  pear of anguish is the modern name for a type of instrument displayed in some museums, consisting of a metal body (usually pear-shaped) divided into spoon-like segments that could be spread apart by turning a screw.  The instrument was inserted into the victim’s mouth or rectum, and then slowly spread apart as the screw was turned.  Of course the six to ten year-olds were fixated by the latter use and giggled uncontrollably all night.

Never one to miss an opportunity, Gramps invented “The Pear.”

“Getting Peared” became the end game of our family times together as the grandchildren grew and became parents themselves.  They peared each other, they peared inappropriately as often as possible, and they peared ME!    Technology helped them find long distance pearing methods.  My niece, Sarah, living in Washington state recently “got me” with this one.  Gramps would be proud to know it has TRICKled down to another generation.

The pear is especially handy when most socially inappropriate…like getting someone with it during a long, boring meeting or doing it when only the recipient can see it.  For example, you might be meeting someone important (like your child’s teacher) and as introductions are made, your kid gets behind the teacher and shoots you a Pear.  Sometimes I pass one of my kids today on the road and as we near each other, I stick my hand up and out of the moon roof and shoot him a Pear…this is known as a drive-by Pearing and it gets extra brownie points.

The real challenge lately has been to keep myself from driving 360 miles to Pittsburgh to spank my nephew’s butt for encouraging his (otherwise) wonderful son, Caleb, to draw pear pictures and mail them to me.

Caleb, when he is not drawing pictures of pears.

I get the mail, my heart swoons because Caleb has sent me a letter!.  But nooooo….   that stink pot is at home giggling, just waiting for Aunt Kelly to get Peared.   His dad is lucky that he is a U.S. Marine and only me and Chuck Norris are afraid of U.S. Marines.

When my oldest son went skiing in Switzerland, I asked him to bring me something back (I’m thinking CHOCOLATE).  Silly me.  His “gift” was a photo of himself, standing so triumphantly in front of a 10′x15′  public transit billboard of a ripe, dew covered pear.  I have to admit, I kind of admired his choice.

Cell phones have taken this fixation to a whole new level.  I might be shopping at Target for a shower curtain and happen upon one covered in pears.  OMG…Instantly, my heart starts racing.  I have to “get someone with it.”  This generally results in a group text.

There was one year, though, on Grandparent’s Day, that I got even with my dad for all this when I framed this super sweet photo of his grandchildren as his “gift.”



















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