She's spewing something about my heritage. How I don't know it and don't appreciate what she went through. How I don't know anything about her. I don't point out that she asked me what my middle name was this morning, which I figure is something a grandmother should know, so admittedly, I'm indifferent to learning anything I should know about her. She rambles on about how her grand-kids should know her story to carry it on, about her 17 cousins and nephews and nieces and so on, none of whom I've ever heard of before.
As she babbles hysterically, I just stare, a tad accusingly. And all I can think is "Gee. It would've been really nice to know some of this in third grade, and not get a check minus on that family tree project."
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say whatever strikes your fancy, but please, respectfully.