Yoopers
“HAVE YOU HEARD the new word ‘Yooper’?”
“‘Yooper’? What the hell’s that?” Grandma is pushing a rolling pin across a big ball of dough on the counter. She’s done this a thousand times. I bet she could do it in her sleep.
“You know the U.P., right? You add e-r to the end of that, so it looks like U.P. er, so it sounds like Yooper.”
“What’s the point of that? We’ve always been here.”
“No, no, Grandma. The Indians were here first.”
“Well, I don’t remember seeing them around much.”
“That’s because we drove them away.”
“Good riddance.”
“Grandma!”
“Well, it’s true.” She points to the dough. “You wanna learn how to make pasties or not?”
I stand closer to Grandma.
“Hey. Move back a bit.”
“Sorry.”
She folds the dough over a puddle of sifted flour and rolls the pin over it again
