…..that I will never do.
Dad used to tell me about how he hitch hiked to and from school.
Not only does that sound insane to me now, it was insane when I was a child. If I had been dumb enough to hitch hike I would never have had to worry about what a demented driver might do to me, once they picked me up. Because my parents would have killed me. Needless to say, I did not. Nor would I have ever allowed my children. I remember twice, as an adult, being stranded on a road in the darkness. Once I had been walking along the road. Every time a vehicle approached I dove (okay just walked) in to the trees along the road so no one would see me and offer to quote help unquote.
Mom tells me of the thousands upon thousands of clothing articles she had to iron as a child. She swears she has callouses (I believe this) to this day from said ironing.
Well, as I’ve mentioned before I prefer to be clean, not stink and have my shirt tucked in but I really don’t care if I’m wrinkled. I had the same miniature ironing board for years. I think I used it three times. Now I don’t know what happened to it. I don’t think I have an iron either.
Dad grimaced when talking about his mother’s cooking. He never said anything bad. He just grimaced.
I love my mom’s cooking. So no need to grimace.
Mom said she would jab a fork in her brother’s hand when she was cooking as a child because they kept sticking their hands in her cooking.
I never jabbed a fork in my brother’s hands because they would have beat the crap out of me. Though now I could jab a fork in their hands and they would put their hands up in the air in quick surrender before I continued with a follow up thumping. That’s right, sister has the moves.
My parents had eight kids.
That ability has left the building. I wouldn’t have minded having eight kids. I just wouldn’t have wanted to have eight kids.
My dad started his own business. Numerous times.
I don’t have the courage my father had.
My mom let my dad start his own businesses.
I don’t have the courage my mother had.
My dad joined the army.
I wish I had had the courage to join the army.
My mom wore dresses.
I have absolutely no desire to wear dresses!
My mom took the bus.
What’s a bus?
My dad called his dad by his first name. His father’s choice.
I call my dad, dad.
My dad wore white ties. With white shoes.
I will not wear white ties. The only white shoes I will wear are my bare feet.
Mom goes ‘scootypootin’.
I refuse to say the word, let alone do it.
My dad fought with his brother and I have this in writing now as an adult.
I never fought with my brothers. (This is an out right lie. But I did not ever throw my brother through a window butt first. Of this I am pretty sure.)
I wish I knew more about what my parents did, that I haven’t done. So if you happen to know of any of these things please share. I won’t tell you told. (Another outright lie, yes I will tell.)
I wish I knew more.