Gift cards for really weird people..my family

I have to tell you this story. I could not ignore my crazy aunt Ruth and my mother on Yule. On the 21st, I gave them their presents. I said, you can save them until your Christmas or open them now on Yule. My aunt, who is 90 and senile, loooooooooves presents, she ripped into it like a spastic child. Inside they both found gifts that baffled them completely. I had gotten them both a pair of nice warm gloves and sat the gloves on top of a case of Minute Maid lemonade treats. The boxes were a pretty bright yellow and pink. The kind of drink that come in a metallic pouch with a straw attached. I knew this was something they had never tried, nor would they ever try unless someone else bought the "new fangled" things. My aunt said "What is it?" I told her it was lemonade, which I happen to know she likes and hardly ever makes. I said, see the little straws? You stick it in the little bag and have yourself a lemonade treat. She tore open the box and looked at one and said "Do you need one of them computers to work this?" I said, no, it is just lemonade. Try it. "Aint that the damnedest thing! Louie, look at this here thing! Patty says it's some kind of lemon treat!" Uh huu, that went on for 15 minutes, she was scared to try one and said it looked like something from outter space that "them there" astro-nuts drank! "Oh my lordy, am I gonna get drunk? I aint no drunk!" It just went on and on..it was torturous.
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Also included was a card and inside the card were gift certificates for one of the only two places they will eat. The HyVee deli. (The other place is McDonalds) A ride was included and you know I worded that very carefully. Sigh. My mother picked up the plastic card and said "What's this? A credit card? I don't understand?" I said, you take that to the deli and they will give you a dinner. She said "But, I don't know how to work this thing. I don't understand." My aunt chimed in.."What the hell we need a credit card for? We aint payin' no interest to the government for no damn credit card!" My mother kept carefully turning hers over like it would magically turn into Satan. She put on her glasses and inspected it. "I just don't get it. I don't know how to work these things." It just went on for fucking ever. I said Happy Yule and left.

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My family is the Clampets, if they were retarded and had no oil.