Memories of Moms and all

I was shy. It took me 3 years to say “hi” to my Mom (about 7 for Dad). Aunts were baffling, uncles terrifying; let’s not mention the milkman, the coalman, and the mailman; the clerks at the bakery, the librarian, teachers. I opened my mouth in 6th grade to respond to a teacher’s question (as if I’d had my hand up — not!!), and nothing came out. Only air.

Still, I got dragged to Mom’s friends’ and neighbors’ houses religiously, less frequently to Dad’s firemen’s musters. If not for a seat (the only one!) on the Eureka hand-tub in the parades, and money for the beach shops while they refreshed themselves with brew and bragging, I’d have certainly become Lot’s wife in that uncle-y scenario.

If my mom’s friends or neighbors had a kitten, a cat, a dog, or (once — thank You, Lord) a cow, I’d be invisibly consumed for the duration of the visit. They’d come and offer me food now and then, but we ALL understood I couldn’t come to the table if the critter was asleep on me!

Mom also had lots of friends (and relatives) over; sometimes they had kids, which was often great. One of them, when we became young worldly teens, decided it’d be fun to steal her mom’s car from out front and joyride to downtown while the ladies gabbed over coffee in the living room.

As these things go, I nodded and off we went. When in the midst of traffic the damned thing stalled dead, I hopped out. I was done with crime. “GET BACK IN THIS CAR.” Cathy was tough; I didn’t have much of a choice.

I think her mom drank Sanka. She probably should’ve opted for caffeine… We didn’t have a cake on hand for drop-bys, but I do recall baking this or that for school or Scouts and my kids were only allowed the dribs and drabs of it all. One day I made cupcakes for the heck of it; the baffled kids said, “Who are these for?”

Hence, one more reason this video clip resonated. Hugely! Perhaps it’s not just in America, but either way, enjoy!!

♥️

..

💙💛

---

.

.