We are traveling when we stopped for a break a young woman grinned at me so broadly I knew it was more than mere friendliness. When I looked at myself in bathroom mirror I realized I looked like a hobbit.
Bad Hobbit
Day: December 23, 2024
1950
Share what you know about the year you were born.
I don’t remember a lot about 1950. One good thing about being born in 1950 is it’s always been easy to calculate my age. Despite that, I still managed to mess up on my age. I claimed to be twenty-five for two years, then repeated year thirty-seven twice. I have no idea why I did that.
Most Awful Christmas Ever
One year, our neighbors, the Awfuls, made sure their parents had the most awful Christmas ever. Their name was really Alston, but Awfuls suited them so much better. Like the rest of us, they couldn’t wait for Christmas. As always, they starting finding their presents about a week before Christmas. Every day one of them showed up with something new. One day, Froggy had a brand new basketball. The next day, Jamey had a new baseball and glove. On Christmas Eve morning Davey buzzed by on a beautiful new Spitfire Bike with a horn. Boy did that make me mad! I had asked my Mother for that very bike. She said Santa didn’t have enough money to bring me a bike. That didn’t make a bit of sense! Why would money matter to Santa? She stammered around a while and finally said parents had to help Santa with expensive things. Huh, it didn’t look like Santa needed too much help at the Awfuls.
This year, Froggy’s mom made up her mind the kids wouldn’t find their gifts before Christmas. For the first time they could remember, they learned about rules. Mrs. Awful kept an eye on them every second they were in the house, only letting them play in the living room or their bedroom. Well, they could go in Crazy Granny’s room, but she screeched every time she saw them, so no luck sneaking around in there: no chances to dig under their mom’s bed or prowl through cupboards and closets, no long afternoons in the attic. She kept them outdoors until dark unless it was cold or raining. It was nice seeing them suffer the way the rest of us did. I heard she even made them do a few chores.
The week before Christmas, the Awfuls played with a collection of rag tag leftover toys just like the rest of us. No one had had caps for cowboy pistols for months. My old red wagon had a broken handle and couldn’t be pulled, only pushed. I couldn’t sucker Billy into pushing me very long, so we had to take turns. We had jumped on Phyllis’s pogo stick so much the stopper on the end was gone and it buried up in the dirt instead of bouncing. Billy’s cars had most of the wheels off, so they weren’t good for much. Even the Tinker Toys were worn out. Daddy had backed over our big tricycle, so it was a goner. Things were looking pretty bleak. We all needed Christmas!!
The Awfuls were still empty-handed Christmas Eve when a miracle happened. Becky was climbing the Christmas Tree after the cat for the hundredth time when the tree-stand broke, dumping Becky, cat, and tree all out in the floor. Becky would have been fine if she had fallen on her head, but she fell face first and knocked out a tooth and bloodied her nose. You never heard such caterwalling in your life. By the time Mom and Pop Awful got in there, it was exciting. The tree was spread across the room, the terrified cat was zipping around the room, and Becky was a squalling bloody mess. Crazy Granny chimed in from her room, so it was quite a party.
Mom and Pop Awful grabbed Becky and left instructions for the kids to mind their grandparents while they took Becky to be repaired by the doctor. This shouldn’t be too hard since Granny was wacko and Grandpa was deaf. Grandpa went straight to sleep. This was just the chance they had been waiting for. They searched the closet and dressers in Mom and Pop’s room first. Nothing there, so they checked the attic. It was spooky, but empty. They checked all the kitchen and bathroom cupboards……nothing. Finally, they thought to check Crazy Granny’s room. Of course she shrieked, but Grandpa kept snoring. Bonanza!!!! Granny’s closet was full! They pulled out bats and balls, puzzles, a tricycle for Becky, scooters, erector sets and more. It was everything they’d asked for. They started playing with their toys, and realized Mom and Pop might be home soon. They were about to pack everything back up when Froggy had a wonderful idea. “Let’s give Mom and Pop a big Christmas surprise! Let’s hide all this stuff.” They barely had time to hustle the packages to their room and slide them under their beds before Mom and Pop Awful and snaggle toothed Becky got back from the doctor. Mom gave them all their supper and rushed them off to bed so Santa could come. No boys had ever gone to bed more enthusiastically.
They tried to stay awake for the fun, but finally drifted off. Awakening to Granny’s screech, they realized the search was on. Sneaking to their bedroom door, they heard Mom Awful’s panicked whisper. “They’re gone!!! All the presents are gone!!!! Someone must have stolen them. What are we going to do???
Pop Awful was sure Mom had just made a mistake. “They can’t be gone. You just forgot where you hid them. You were worried about the kids finding them again. Let’s just think and keep looking.” They looked everywhere….all the closets……under the beds……the attics. Nothing! The Awfuls peeked from behind their door, stifling their laughter as they watched Mom and Pop tear the place up, looking for the missing presents. Just then, they heard a fateful, “quack, quack, quack” as Becky’s little wind up duck marched out of their room, straight up to Mom and Pop. They ripped the door open saw the presents spilling out from under the bed, bicycles all over the room, and their Awful Christmas started.
Sorry Sew and Sew
I gave up on pestering Mother after I’d made her sufficiently mad. The 4-H apron project folder lay forlornly on my messy dresser. One Monday the teacher reminded us Thursday was 4-H day. Don’t forget our projects. She added 4-H was not just an excuse to get out of class. We’d better show up with our finished project. I assumed my grade would be affected, always a troubling situation. I went wailing to Mother when I got home.
Disgruntled at another burden heaped on her shoulders, she looked at the folder I waved in her face. “I don’t have time now. You don’t have to have it till Thursday.” So, Wednesday after supper, Mother finally looked through her stash of fabric. Alas, she chose an exceedingly ugly brown bit of fabric unlikely to be of use for anything else. She hastily scanned the project folder to see my project called for a yard and a half. “This is pretty close. It should do.”
Naturally, I hated the ugly print. “This doesn’t look the one the leader showed us!” I protested.
“It’s fine.” she said, anxious to be done with the project. “The apron doesn’t have to look exactly like the picture.” Truer words were never spoken. The tacky mess I had to offer at the 4-H meeting was a pitiful example of sewing.
The agent had nothing good to say about it as she had us label our projects for entry at the fair. I hadn’t even thought to iron mine. It was definitely the red-headed stepchild of the lot. Clearly, some of the other girls, or their mothers, had followed the instructions to the letter, producing lovely aprons. That satisfied my yen for sewing until I took home economics.
I Love Mixed Metaphors
Miss Laura Mae’s House Part 12
My grandma was in the hospital. We had a houseful of company and we didn’t go to Miss Laura Mae’s house for several days. I was happy to be sitting on her top step with a biscuit again.
“Well, I ain’t seen y’all in a month of Sundays,” she said “Where you been?”
“Right there at the house,” answered Mother. “I’m so tired I can hardly wiggle. Bill’s mama thought she was having a heart attack and they kept her in the hospital overnight. It turns out it was just a hernia. She was doing fine but they still kept her overnight for tests. They were supposed to let her out the next morning. You know how Dr. Hawkins is. You can’t go to see him without him wanting to keep you overnight for tests. Anyway, she was sleeping and the nurse came to check on her. Miz Swain thought she was seeing a ghost and got all upset, convinced she was dying. She had the nurse call Bill to call all the kids in. You know she has seven.
Anyway, all the kids and in-laws came flocking in to the house along with all their kids. There was no need to all pile in at the house and stay all that time. They all live within ten miles of us. I don’t know what good they thought they were doing, anyway. Next thing, her two brothers and their wives showed up. Somebody called her step-brother from way down in South Louisana and told him it might be his last chance to see her. They couldn’t have been close. They hadn’t seen each other in more than twenty years.” Mother complained.
“Lordy, was she really that sick? That sounds like a mess.” Miss Laura Mae offered.
“No, nothing was bad wrong. She’s just the superstitious type and was convinced it was a sign she was going to die. Anyway, the whole bunch hung around the rest of the night and visited the next day, like it was their last chance to see each other. They made a bunch of long distance phone calls, which I know they’ll never pay for, ate up my week’s supply of groceries, drank up all my coffee, and even used up all the toilet paper. Even after she got out of the hospital, they kept right on visiting. The kids were running in and out banging the doors, screaming and yelling like a bunch of heathens. I stayed behind them with the broom and mop, but it was hopeless. It was horrible. I thought they never would go home. I am so tired, I could sleep for a week. We are out groceries. I don’t even have any dry beans left. We’ll be eating biscuits and gravy till payday.” Mother sighed.
“You know, my mother had a stroke last summer. They didn’t know if she’d make it. She lives out in Texas. I wanted to go, but we talked about it and Bill decided we really didn’t have the money. I didn’t get to go for three months. It’s strange how when it’s the man, it is so different. It makes me mad all over we didn’t go when Mama was sick. I could have missed my last chance then. Why are men so selfish?”
“Honey, that’s why I never married agin after Floyd died. Most men think they own their women, an’ women don’t need to do nuthin’ but tend to them, the younguns, an’ the house an’ garden. I wasn’t much past forty and still had a couple of younguns to raise when Floyd died, but it was a lot easier for me to take in ironin’, sew for the public, babysit, or sit with the elderly or the sick than have to answer to another man. Now, don’t get me wrong. They’s a’plenty o’ good men out there, but they do that one bad thing. They just keep on a’breathing in an’ breathin’ out.”
They both laughed till tears were running down their faces.
Nutsrok 