Grannies' Rage

I've got a story, that needs to be told, about my mean ole granny, she's pushing "83" years old. She came at me trippin, it was a Tuesday night, griping up a storm bout her broken, bedroom nightlite. She claims I attempted to cause her to trip, with ending up on floor, and a right broken hip. She waddled down the hall, walker leading the way, her hair was a wreck, misplaced comb I would say. I calmly explained light stays constantly lit, seven days and nights, my excuse, sounding legit. Before I could say that the little bulb just blew, she slowly bent down, and grabbed a brown velcro shoe. Not quite for certain of her plan of attack, shouldn't be worried, her eyesight, rather unfit. I went to the kitchen, quickly opened the junk drawer, located a pack of bulbs, I had purchased a week before. Staying out of her way, her comments, and aim, back to her room, the nightlite I had supposedly maimed. I quickly replaced the old bulb with new, the light flickered once, twice, then its radiance grew. I went back to sit, where I was before, with granny still ranting, barely pacing the floor. I told her, her light seems to be fine, that she could go back to bed at any time. Slowly she dropped the brown velcro laced shoe, continuing to cuss at me, like a mad trucker would do. With a final curse word, and a slam of her door, I sat silently, grinning, and thinking, "grannies' rage", I simply adore.