I accidentally got into a political discussion this weekend with my mother and grandmother. I say accidentally because a political discussion with my mother’s side of the family is something I NEVER would willingly want to get into.

I am not an articulate debater. I can write my thoughts out much better than I can speak them. This is why I will never be a politician or on a debate team or why I choose to blink at the opposite sex instead of talk to them. I don’t mind discussing things with people but politics leave me tongue-tied specifically because with my very conservative relatives, it’s usually not worth discussing.

*It should be noted that at the exact moment I’m writing this, I’m watching the RNC on MSNBC and the crowd is chanting “Drill Baby Drill” along with Guiliani. Please. Someone. Hold me.*

Anyway. The point is, we got into a huge argument. And by argument, I mean that my grandmother yelled at me that abortion is the equivalent of Nazi Germany and I sat on the couch and cried because that is how I react when people scream insanity at me. I know that we are all entitled to an opinion. I know that no matter what I say, I’m not going to change the mind of my 78 year old grandmother who openly admitted that she believes liberalism leads to communism.

Despite our differences, it was interesting to speak/yell at her. She is now living with my parents as my grandfather died in May and she just sold their house. It was weird to have her around this past weekend when I visited, a woman who normally keeps to herself and has rarely ever made the effort to be a part of my life. And now, there she is, sitting on the couch in her pajamas, watching the US Open, chiming in with her opinions.

She is a brilliant lady, stubborn and intelligent. At one point, I flat out told her to make her damn point already because she was rambling on and on quoting Scripture and philosophy and US History in one large breath. I would never have dreamed in a million years that I would ever be sitting in my living room telling my grandmother to shut up but hey, life is full of surprises, am I right!?

So we screamed and yelled and by the end, I had dissolved into tears, unable to clearly make a point because she wasn’t really listening to me. And in the end, that’s what always happens when you debate politics, isn’t it? You’re not really listening or taking in the other side because you’re so intent on proving the other person wrong.

*Side note from the RNC: OMG is that Sarah Palin’s son? HE IS HOT!!!!*

My mother had been joining in the argument as it went on, at first siding with her mother and then at the more absurd justifications, with me. She was a mediator of sorts, trying to bring us to neutral ground. She kept bouncing back and forth: abortion is wrong but my God, so was Bush about this damn war.

My dad had been sitting next to me the entire time, quiet as a mouse. Nodding his head, listening, as he has been known to do.

“I’m learning a lot living here,” my grandmother said as I wiped my eyes and took deep breaths afterward, frustrated with the entire conversation.

“Oh yeah?” I asked. “What else did you learn besides the fact that I’m a communist Nazi supporter who loves Saddam Hussein?”

“Well,” said my grandmother slowly. “Your dad really likes peas and corn.”

“Peas and corn?” I said.

“That’s right,” said my dad, speaking up for the first time in almost two hours.

“Well,” I said, “That’s much simpler than politics.”

“Yeah,” said my dad in very thick Brooklyn, “Peas and corn with my dinner. Makes me very happy.”

“That’s great, dad,” I said. “You know what makes me happy?”

“What?”

“A president who isn’t batshit crazy.”

“Good one,” said my dad.

And then, “If you can’t get dat though, peas and corn might really help you out.”