Some children grow up learning to resist authoritarian figures, but some still hear Grandma’s voice in their heads, disapproving. Always virtue-signalling. Clutching at imaginary pearls so hard she leaves nail marks on her palms. And still able to order you around.

“Well, I declare, there can’t be ten and a half ounces of potato chips in this bag! Look at this! Oh, it’s cold in here. Go get my shawl out of the car.”

Shut up, Grandma!