On long car rides, my sister Beth would suck her finger for a long time and then take it out of her mouth and try to put it on me. I had never sucked my finger (a child of the binky (pacifier) method, it had been some painful days for my parents when I either a) lost my favorite binky and b) had to give up my binky for good so they never used one for Beth) and subsequently I suffered in horror of what I referred to as the "grody finger." My dad found the entire thing comical, my mother told us to shut-up if we didn't want to get it when we got home and tried to engage us in a thrilling game of "who can be quiet the longest." There was no prize for winning so it didn't last long. The grody finger resumed its evil course toward my body.
We'd get in the car often just to drive around -- it was a way of getting out of the house and seeing things like possums crossing the road or armordillos (these animals were usually splattered on the side of the road because they were slow and carriers of leprosy so people didn't mind hitting them). My mother would stop the car to catch the random tarantuala with the pickle jars she kept in the truck for just such a use. I would both dread and love these rides through the dark Texas night -- if I close my eyes, they seem to be both happening right now and a dream. Sometimes it was so dark that you couldn't see anything except the headlights coming toward you.
Michelle's Spell of the Day
"What I know is Texas. In Texas, you're on your own."
Drinking movie suggestion: Blood Simple
Benedictions and Maledictions
Happy Birthday to my wonderful sister, Beth!
6 comments:
Happy Birthday to your very supportive sister, Beth. I remember the horseshoe in the photo from an earlier post. Very smart, professsional looking outfit, Michelle. Makes me want to register for a class. As they say, ;).
Come fly with me.
Dear Michelle, amusing and lovely as always/ Can you see into the future with that shiny sphere? I hope you can see me there. Bravo and Happy Day to you and Beth; For another date idea I would recommend Forte in Birmingham where men must dress as adults and not as if they are merely going to a Tigers game at the weekend. In other words, they must match you lovely ladies with effort.
If I'm not mistaken, Michelle doesn't like "Jonathan Livingston Seagull." Sorry, jlcgull.
She donot like lots a tings. I white blog her SUV.
"In Texas, You're On Your Own," said GWB in Crawford, on the path to his waterfall. Cheers.
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