Lost in Translation

I believe my mother officially won the "Best Grandma in the World" award on Friday. She called me and said that she was on her way to my daughter's school because she'd received a call from Izzy. My aunt answered the phone and relayed this message to my mother:

"Izzy called and asked if you could bring 17 hot pads to her school for a contest for Ronald McDonald House. They need 17 hot pads so her class can win."

My mother, thrilled to come to Izzy's rescue, hopped in her car, went to the dollar store and bought 20 pot holders, and was en route to Izzy's school -- 40-minutes away. She called me, gushing that Izzy thought her grandma could save the day. But I was confused. We get emails, memos, and constant messages from school about events going on and I'd never read anything about hot pads for Ronald McDonald House. But I did know that the Ronald McDonald House collects pop tabs.

Hot pads... pop tabs... It was starting to make sense.

"Mom, do you think Izzy said pop tabs?"

"No, Linda said hot pads. I didn't know why Izzy thought I'd have 17 hot pads, but if she thinks she can count on her grandma, I'm not going to let her down. I bought 20 just in case."

"Let me call the school and I'll call you right back."

Sure enough, they were collecting pop tabs. I called my mother back. She was getting ready to pull into a Walgreens and buy a case of pop so she could remove the tabs, but I told her to swing by my house instead. I had a whole bag full of cans to recycle, so I hurriedly pulled the tabs off and sent her on her way to the school with a baggie of pop tabs and a bagful of hot pads. Grandma to the rescue!

We laughed all day about it and have since made phone calls to each other in which we misinterpret other messages. She's already warned us that we're all getting hot pads for Christmas.