This morning I walked in to my boss’ office with my co-worker to meet with our boss. Just like we do every morning. On the desk were three boxes of candy. She encouraged us to help ourselves. I opened the Whoppers and set the Milk Duds aside and told them to remind me to tell them a story about the Milk Duds.
We forgot about them.
Then, later in the day I read a story about Milk Duds.
I was a little surprised. It’s not every day that I see or even think about Milk Duds, or read stories about them. Apparently I am suppose to think about Milk Duds today. That’s my interpretation so it’s what you all get to read about today.
Enjoy.
You’re welcome.
Years ago my father owned business(es). I can’t even tell you for sure what this business in this memory was. I think it was a “bar”. For some of you that may mean “tavern” or “pub”. In the back was a room that I don’t remember as being very populated with stuff. But I remember it being cool or cold outside. I remember my brothers being in there with me. I won’t rat out which two brothers who look an awful lot alike were there.
But they were there and so was I. Along with a very hot, red hot in my memory, kettle or furnace or pot belly stove. It was something. And it was stinking hot. I remember this. I also remember there were “things” there. An iron or metal of some kind rod lying in or on the red hot thing.
I also remember one of my brothers picking up the end of the rod not in or on the red hot thing. The next thing I know the thing that was hot from being in or on the red hot thing was on my knee.
I know, right? Brothers.
I know I screamed. Back then I could scream like a girl. I remember we must have been in a lower than ground level room because I remember seeing someone’s legs through the window and then a face.
I am pretty sure my brothers weren’t trying to kill me. Or even hurt me. We were pretty young. And apparently two of them were pretty stupid.
I don’t remember a lot after that. Until I was home. I remember having a white handkerchief thing in a triangle shape around my knee. I remember my dad coming in and putting a box of Milk Duds in my hands.
I remember waking up in the morning and holding the Milk Duds box. It was empty. I was sad. I don’t know for sure but I probably suspected my brothers of coming in and taking my Milk Duds. Why not? They put fire on my knee. Buttheads.
I pushed myself up to sitting in my bed. I was on the top bunk. And all over my bed were these big, flat, gross brown spots.
I did not test them for sure.
But I’m pretty sure my brothers did not take my Milk Duds.
Though all these years later I wish I had peeled them off and stuck them on the back of their pants.
*
*
*
*
*Thank you littlemisswordy.wordpress.com . You’re story was extra sweet and made me think back to a very sweet treat from my dad. Gone awry. But sweet none the less.
🙂
