Stories passed down

When I was grocery shopping yesterday, there was an old man in the line behind me, and as seems to be typical for me, we started talking. I love talking to people, and my close friends laugh because no matter where we are, some stranger will always just start talking to me out of the blue.
Anyway, this guy last night kept telling me little tidbits like how high heels came about in Italy, and the term well-heeled was born because when they were first invented it was alas that only the high society women were allowed to have heels on their shoes.
Then he told me how there was a time in history when two unconnected, unwed women were pregnant and had to decide if they should keep the child, or try to abort. (In the old ways) and how those women chose to have the babies, but wouldn’t life be different if they hadn’t, because one of the babies was Michealangelo, and the other was Hitler. I have no idea if it was true, but just talking to this old guy was interesting because was obviously enjoying telling his little stories.
After walking to our cars I got in and drove home thinking about how long it had been since I’d heard someone telling stories that way, passing them down, and I thought, “I need to call Grandma tomorrow.”