My grandfather replied to my grandmother, Part 1, 2, 3

My grandfather replied to my grandmother, "I think we have running in the family."
"I guess," she replied, "I mean, shit, he should have just finished his time."
"I know," he replied, "Now we can't take him back into the crew. Everyone will be looking for him."
I could see where this was going, and it couldn't be any good.
They both looked at me with their old prying eyes. "No." I said. "I'm not going to do it."
"Ah," said my gramma in her soft, sneaky voice, "It just has to be for a little while, honey."
"Hell, gramma, how long have you been married?"
"It's different now. People get married on a whim and it all drifts away in a couple of years."
"I am not going to get married just so you can get a new wheel man!"
"But she's so pretty and sweet," cajoles grandpa.
"And she's got impressive hooters," adds grandma.
"No."
"Why? you used to be so sweet on her," says grandma.
"You really want to know?"
"Yes!" from them both.
"This is so embarrassing. Margaret has this habit of spitting...tobacco juice."
"Oh my."
"I didn't know."
"Yes she does. All the time." I was running with it now. I had to get it out. "She hides it well. And she uses great tons of mouthwash."
"Strange thing."
"Damn," murmered granma.
"Well, but that's not the worst."
"What was it?'
"She began to get it in my shoes," I said.
"I can see how it would begin to get on your nerves."
"Yeah, after sex, before I could get dressed, she'd spit in my shoes. Like a spittoon."
"That's disgusting," said grandpa.
"She thought it was funny."
"You mean, during, she'd be...chewing...?" asked gramma.
"Well, yeah, but..."
"Ah yukkk." said grandpa.
"Big hooters," stated gramma definitively.
"Well, it all started when her mother slapped her face. Her cheek started to swell and her cousin Marty gave her some chewing tobacco, cuz he said it wouldn't show so much. You know, the red and the swelling. And she just kept chewing. She likes it."
"She's probably out of the habit of spittin in shoes now," said grandpa. "And her ol' man is the best driver around."
"I need a bigger cut of the score. Twenty percent."
"Damn son," said gramma. Then she looked at me. "Ok done."
We shook hands and I started for the door.
"Twenty percent," said grandpa. "What got into you woman?"
I turned around to see her as she responded.
My gramma was smiling as big as I've ever seen her smile. "I tell you, It was almost worth it just for the story. And then I was thinking... He'll need an extra five percent just for extra sponges for his shoes."
"And we'll always hear him coming," added grandpa as they both begin laughing so hard they didn't hear me slamming the door on my way out.