Grandma. She's pretty boring. Takes after her mother-in-law in recent years, has been nicknamed "Queen Junie" lately. She's real good at complaining, and while some things she has good reason to whine about, other things are pure attention getting. This is confirmed by the different stories she tells her two sons who live 1200 miles apart. In her younger days, she was a flaming red head, so I hope that recessive gene comes out someday, if not in Natalie, then in one of our fictional next children. She also has no ass, as compared to grandpa's gigantic one. My dad takes after his father but my uncle takes after grandma. His pants can never stay up. Grandma only started wearing pants in the past few years (dresses only till then) when my mom introduced her to the joys of jersey knit lounge pants for wearing in rehab after a hip replacement.
Grandma's father died when she was little, so I never met him and she didn't know him all that well either. He was born ON THE BOAT between Ellis Island and Kiev. We're not sure if his family was Russian or Ukrainian (although back in the day they were one in the same), just that their ship sailed from Kiev. Cannot imagine giving birth on a ship 100+ years ago. Yikes. However, grandma did spend time growing up with his mother, her grandmother, a good Jewish lady who taught her to make a mean motzah ball soup and eat gefelta fish. Grandma celebrates her Jewish heritage on the high holy days by making her grandma's motzah ball soup and serving with pork chops. She thinks this is funny since she was raised presbyterian.