“Keep going! I can’t get up!”
I once ruined a surprise dinner for hubby….. because I had to call him to find out how to turn the oven on.
I am pretty sure my parents were trying to kill us as children. I was going to say, ‘me,’ instead of, ‘us,’ then remembered that I have two older sisters. I sort of block them out of most of my childhood memories.
Because most of those memories consist of things like…. them making up mean songs…. with hand clap routines to go with the lyrics — like in ‘Miss Mary Mack.’
Anywhoo, here is proof that my parents tried to kill us:
“You two are a bunch of lesbians!” Jeff P. yelled down the hallway, surrounded by his posse.
I didn’t know what a lesbian was, but from the way Jeff hollered it, it sounded like something that could get me made fun of.
My bestest friend ever, Jessie, and I were walking down our elementary school’s hallway, toward our 3rd grade class room. And she was holding my hand.
Jeff P. made some smooching noises, his friends joined in, and I wanted to pull my hand away from Jessie, look at the floor, and hope the boys would stop as I cowered out of their aim.
But not Jessie.
I couldn’t pull my hand away because she held on to it tighter than ever, turned her head, and screamed, “She’s my best friend and we will hold hands if we want to!”
Yeah. Those boys shut the hell up.
My 33 year-old self often wishes I had the guts and stand-up-for-myself attitude that my bestest friend ever did that day oh so long ago.
Who is this balding man with two presents, one in each hand? One is small, dirty, and newspaper wrapped. The other is wrapped in iridescent paper that reflects sunlight from the window in pink shades of rainbow, with a glistening red bow atop a much larger box.