"Ivey Mae, do you have on underpants?"
"God mom. When are you going to stop asking me that?"
"Well, do you?"
"Mom seriously, look at me. Am I in any way dressed inappropriately? No cleavage, not even my arms are showing."
"But do you have on underwear?"
"Not that it is any of your business, I have told you repeatedly I do not like underwear with jeans. They cut your butt in half."
"But do you have underwear on now?"
"Mother I am not going to answer you."
"Well, you know that slut Brittney Spears doesn't wear them, or that Lindsey...." Stopping her mid-sentence I groan, but continue trying to get my point across.
"I know mom, I know. I really don't care who wears underwear or not. It is private. And for certain, I don't have to wear them just because you want me to. I am a grown woman."
Well, any decent grown woman would wear underwear, even if it did cut her butt in half. Then she pauses a split second, and emphatically continues.
"Marilyn Monroe didn't wear underwear either and I read she also likes the smell of her own....."
"Mom, stop!"
"Well you are the one who doesn't wear underwear and I was just pointing out the similarities and that she also liked the smell of her own vajayjay. Isn't that what they are calling it these days?"
"I gotta go. I just walked over to ask if you needed anything from the store not to get into the whole underwear deal."
"Thank you. Yes you can pick me up some milk. Make sure you check the date."
My brother then appears at the top of the stairway, looking down at the all too familiar scene, shaking his heard with humor and dismay. He quickly descends, with his long legs clearing the stairs three at a time. On the way out the door he throws a glance at my bare feet, and casually adds his two cents.
"I don't care if you wear any underwear. Just put on some shoes."
A LTTLE BIT OF IVEY
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
ONE MORE THING
There are certain things you should not do after having a tooth pulled.
The Oral Surgeon explains in great detail. No food then soft food. No gargling, no swishing, no drinking with a straw. The patient is to do nothing that will disturb the extraction site for prompt and prudent healing.
Well, folks there is one more thing you shouldn't do that could suck the clot out of your wound and cause a painful dry socket.
Yea, that's right. But it was worth it.
The Oral Surgeon explains in great detail. No food then soft food. No gargling, no swishing, no drinking with a straw. The patient is to do nothing that will disturb the extraction site for prompt and prudent healing.
Well, folks there is one more thing you shouldn't do that could suck the clot out of your wound and cause a painful dry socket.
Yea, that's right. But it was worth it.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
YA'LL, JUST COME ON IN
Time for a steamy, hot, shower. Leaning over, I topple my long hair in a high twist and drop my clothes to the floor. Pushing the play button, Dean Martin's enchanting voice croons. Singing, as if he is tasting the words. "Send me the pillow, that you dream on, so darlin, I can dream on it too." So fine, even with a smoke in his hand.
Not two minutes after turning on the faucet, I hear "mommie he is spitting at me" from one of my daughters banging on the bathroom door. Immediately followed by my son's adamant "what a little liar she is." Lots of familiar toe shadows are moving under the door. "Mommie, he's lying. He spit and me and what are you going to do about it?" "Mommie you know what a liar she is, I can proove it, she is just being a bitch"
At that, I open the shower door. "Hey, hey, hey, don't cuss! Why would she say that you spit at her if you didn't. Were you talking and maybe spit, but didn't realize it? What are you arguing about to begin with?"
My attempt is ignored, and it goes on "Mommie, he is spitting at me and it is my turn on the computer. See you like him better!"
Wrapping a towel around myself, I reach for the door. Opening it, to a bunch of young ens, with green eyes and freckles. Hannah and her brother have been joined by Hayley, with the baby crawling down the hall as fast, as fat little legs can go. His diaper is swish swish swishing. He is serious about not being left out, making me smile.
Ten minutes later, still in the towel, I step back into the shower and try again.
Yea, you guessed it. "Mommie!"
So, not to loose control of the situation, I have a Welcome mat at the front door, and a "Ya'll, Just Come On In" sign on the bathroom door.
Not two minutes after turning on the faucet, I hear "mommie he is spitting at me" from one of my daughters banging on the bathroom door. Immediately followed by my son's adamant "what a little liar she is." Lots of familiar toe shadows are moving under the door. "Mommie, he's lying. He spit and me and what are you going to do about it?" "Mommie you know what a liar she is, I can proove it, she is just being a bitch"
At that, I open the shower door. "Hey, hey, hey, don't cuss! Why would she say that you spit at her if you didn't. Were you talking and maybe spit, but didn't realize it? What are you arguing about to begin with?"
My attempt is ignored, and it goes on "Mommie, he is spitting at me and it is my turn on the computer. See you like him better!"
Wrapping a towel around myself, I reach for the door. Opening it, to a bunch of young ens, with green eyes and freckles. Hannah and her brother have been joined by Hayley, with the baby crawling down the hall as fast, as fat little legs can go. His diaper is swish swish swishing. He is serious about not being left out, making me smile.
Ten minutes later, still in the towel, I step back into the shower and try again.
Yea, you guessed it. "Mommie!"
So, not to loose control of the situation, I have a Welcome mat at the front door, and a "Ya'll, Just Come On In" sign on the bathroom door.
Friday, September 24, 2010
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
THE MOON IS A HARSH MISTRESS-Glen Campbell
Climbing in the truck the humidity is thick and wet against my tanned skin, still flushed from sex. Good sex. Mechanical though only grunts no sighs. He has a great body, full lips and soulful brown eyes. A very good man, honest and kind. And just like my Grandmother always advised, he adores me.
Driving home in a trance the light switches green and I turn once more. The night is still young. Hhhhhumpf, who cares. The man in the moon is so clear above me. His light casts a lusty glow that lingers in the air. Bearing my eyes forward in stubborn resolve, I defer emotion and tighten my grip on the wheel.
The thick ficus canopy overhead pulls my attention. Tropical greens temporarily hide the stars but the moon peeks out as I roll down the dark, jealous street.
Pleased with myself for feigning not to care, I decide to take refuge in this silent lonely night. But then what? WHAT? My pulse takes off. A truck darts from my right, pulling in front of me at a short distance. Its silhouette looks familiar. Then the thing hauls ass. It's him.
It's him, it's him, it's him. I just know it. The speed gives him away. He's gotta go fast to get out of his own way. Instinctively pressing my foot to the floor, I too take off.
The light slides to yellow and slows his butt down with me coming to a stop beside him. He is turning left I am going straight. Keeping my gaze forward, I feel him. Pausing a long moment I turn and look. And guess who's lookin at me? Yea, sexy man. Hes got a toothpick in his hand and mischief on his face.
That grin is unmistakable. It moves slowly up his soft full lips, then captures my attention as a twinkle in his eyes. We linger at each other. No one is around. The streets are empty. Just us, under the moon.
He is so cute, so cute, so cute!
I've driven this road countless times back and forth to my cousins but now I always feel something. Mostly I feel like hurling. But it ain't just a road, anymore.
Driving home in a trance the light switches green and I turn once more. The night is still young. Hhhhhumpf, who cares. The man in the moon is so clear above me. His light casts a lusty glow that lingers in the air. Bearing my eyes forward in stubborn resolve, I defer emotion and tighten my grip on the wheel.
The thick ficus canopy overhead pulls my attention. Tropical greens temporarily hide the stars but the moon peeks out as I roll down the dark, jealous street.
Pleased with myself for feigning not to care, I decide to take refuge in this silent lonely night. But then what? WHAT? My pulse takes off. A truck darts from my right, pulling in front of me at a short distance. Its silhouette looks familiar. Then the thing hauls ass. It's him.
It's him, it's him, it's him. I just know it. The speed gives him away. He's gotta go fast to get out of his own way. Instinctively pressing my foot to the floor, I too take off.
The light slides to yellow and slows his butt down with me coming to a stop beside him. He is turning left I am going straight. Keeping my gaze forward, I feel him. Pausing a long moment I turn and look. And guess who's lookin at me? Yea, sexy man. Hes got a toothpick in his hand and mischief on his face.
That grin is unmistakable. It moves slowly up his soft full lips, then captures my attention as a twinkle in his eyes. We linger at each other. No one is around. The streets are empty. Just us, under the moon.
He is so cute, so cute, so cute!
I've driven this road countless times back and forth to my cousins but now I always feel something. Mostly I feel like hurling. But it ain't just a road, anymore.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Friday, September 17, 2010
TURTLES LIKE TO WATCH
I never knew a darned thing about turtles. That is until, you know who.
After the guinea pigs no longer satiated his need for wildlife-suburbia style, he wanted a turtle.
Always the long-suffering optimist, I thought this would entail a glass bowl, with a rock, plastic palm tree and turtle.
A turtle could not eat or go to the bathroom that much because, look how big they are, the size of a quarter? OK, even two turtles would be super easy. They float and don't make any noise. Turtles do not bark, chew up your shoes or swat you just for the hell of it. After the dogs, cats and infamous cage fiasco, this was going to be a piece of cake. Heck, I probly won't even notice we have turtles.
Yea, that's right. I noticed.
Chase came home with one turtle. Then curiously rescued another later in the week, so two turtles it is, Ricky and Lucy.
Turtles swim in a tank of water and use the rock for sunning. I was correct about the eating and defecating ratio but did not consider algae build up and odor. What never entered the thought process about owning turtles, is that they would consider, every move I make. I notice the turtles and they notice me.
Turtles are voyeurs and living in a glass house makes watching easy to do. Moving about my busy day any time I turn in the room with the turtles, four steely eyes are staring me down like "yea, here she comes again, what's she gonna do now?" Reptiles show no emotion. So the little beady eyes just pivot and dart, whichever way I go.
And always, without fail, from the moment she landed in the tank, the redback, Lucy, sits on the greenback turtle. If he swims she swims. When he suns she suns. And of course, they share the ever ending watchfulness. One pair of eyes on top of the other, lookin at me.
Some Saturday while folding laundry the turtles catch my eye. With Sting singing "every move you make" in my head, I test them. Leering back, they are vigilant as my hands move with each fold of the clothes. Stretching towards a cabinet slightly out of their view, Ricky too angled towards the cabinet, taking Lucy with him. She is an attentive mate from her attachment on top.
They watch me walk in. They watch me walk out. They oversee everything I do. Like it is not enough, my mother is watching from down the street.
Turtles grow, albeit slowly. The day came when I convinced Chase it was time to set them free, even though they are family. After four years, I take my visual companions to the small lake on Mother and dad's property. With freedom in sight, they have no idea how their world is about to change.
Ricky the turtle has one view in his paradigm. Until this pending moment, he could swim up twelve inches, down twelve inches and side to side for about the same.
The four years of his whole life, he had a little girl turtle above him. The redback was loyal every day, all day, night and day. Miss Lucy never left the top of his shell. Granted, not much going on in the 'gettin lucky' department for Ricky, since she never got off his back. Yet, she is dependable just the same.
Excited for their future, I kneel at the water's edge. Sun rays slice the gleaming pond as I gently turn the bucket on its side. In a split second , faster than the blink of my eye, she was gone! GONE. I couldn't believe it.
As Ricky landed in the water he started to sink slowly and in a literal flash, little Lucy redback was gone. History. She simply took off, as if she had been fantasizing this moment for four years. Her tiny legs flew across the pond's surface to get away. No swimming was involved.
So much for the loyal mate. Nice. Hell, I thought she liked being up there. When in fact, she just had nothing better to do.
Ricky looked up, disoriented for sure. After several seconds of floating downward, trying to get a grip on the situation, he decided to swim. Cranking his neck to look at me one last time, his intense eyes spoke loud and clear.
OK, who the hell moved the bottom? And where'd the bitch go?
After the guinea pigs no longer satiated his need for wildlife-suburbia style, he wanted a turtle.
Always the long-suffering optimist, I thought this would entail a glass bowl, with a rock, plastic palm tree and turtle.
A turtle could not eat or go to the bathroom that much because, look how big they are, the size of a quarter? OK, even two turtles would be super easy. They float and don't make any noise. Turtles do not bark, chew up your shoes or swat you just for the hell of it. After the dogs, cats and infamous cage fiasco, this was going to be a piece of cake. Heck, I probly won't even notice we have turtles.
Yea, that's right. I noticed.
Chase came home with one turtle. Then curiously rescued another later in the week, so two turtles it is, Ricky and Lucy.
Turtles swim in a tank of water and use the rock for sunning. I was correct about the eating and defecating ratio but did not consider algae build up and odor. What never entered the thought process about owning turtles, is that they would consider, every move I make. I notice the turtles and they notice me.
Turtles are voyeurs and living in a glass house makes watching easy to do. Moving about my busy day any time I turn in the room with the turtles, four steely eyes are staring me down like "yea, here she comes again, what's she gonna do now?" Reptiles show no emotion. So the little beady eyes just pivot and dart, whichever way I go.
And always, without fail, from the moment she landed in the tank, the redback, Lucy, sits on the greenback turtle. If he swims she swims. When he suns she suns. And of course, they share the ever ending watchfulness. One pair of eyes on top of the other, lookin at me.
Some Saturday while folding laundry the turtles catch my eye. With Sting singing "every move you make" in my head, I test them. Leering back, they are vigilant as my hands move with each fold of the clothes. Stretching towards a cabinet slightly out of their view, Ricky too angled towards the cabinet, taking Lucy with him. She is an attentive mate from her attachment on top.
They watch me walk in. They watch me walk out. They oversee everything I do. Like it is not enough, my mother is watching from down the street.
Turtles grow, albeit slowly. The day came when I convinced Chase it was time to set them free, even though they are family. After four years, I take my visual companions to the small lake on Mother and dad's property. With freedom in sight, they have no idea how their world is about to change.
Ricky the turtle has one view in his paradigm. Until this pending moment, he could swim up twelve inches, down twelve inches and side to side for about the same.
The four years of his whole life, he had a little girl turtle above him. The redback was loyal every day, all day, night and day. Miss Lucy never left the top of his shell. Granted, not much going on in the 'gettin lucky' department for Ricky, since she never got off his back. Yet, she is dependable just the same.
Excited for their future, I kneel at the water's edge. Sun rays slice the gleaming pond as I gently turn the bucket on its side. In a split second , faster than the blink of my eye, she was gone! GONE. I couldn't believe it.
As Ricky landed in the water he started to sink slowly and in a literal flash, little Lucy redback was gone. History. She simply took off, as if she had been fantasizing this moment for four years. Her tiny legs flew across the pond's surface to get away. No swimming was involved.
So much for the loyal mate. Nice. Hell, I thought she liked being up there. When in fact, she just had nothing better to do.
Ricky looked up, disoriented for sure. After several seconds of floating downward, trying to get a grip on the situation, he decided to swim. Cranking his neck to look at me one last time, his intense eyes spoke loud and clear.
OK, who the hell moved the bottom? And where'd the bitch go?
Sunday, September 12, 2010
AGING EYES
I now need to carry my reading glasses in public.
I bought a shirt I thought was covered in a small continuous print of petite blue flower bunches. Turns out I was wrong. I have been wearing this shirt for nearly a year, but just looked at it with my glasses on.
It is embodied with a small continuous print of petite blue skulls and crossbones. Not flowers.
I bought a shirt I thought was covered in a small continuous print of petite blue flower bunches. Turns out I was wrong. I have been wearing this shirt for nearly a year, but just looked at it with my glasses on.
It is embodied with a small continuous print of petite blue skulls and crossbones. Not flowers.
WAIT A MINUTE, THE ORDER IS MESSED UP..........
Most of my family gathers at mother and dad's, for Sunday supper. One particular week while eating at the large indoor picnic table, the distant front door slams echoing up the vaulted foyer. We don't see her yet, but hear her and brace for her. My sweet sister Lorraine. She is as pretty as her name, feisty as the day is long, and there is a good, clear picture of her next to the words "high strung" in the dictionary. "Mom? Mom? Where are you?" Before anyone has time to answer, she is flustered in front of us.
Throwing a quick glance around the room for me, Lorraine Lea then looks back at Mom all in a tizzy. Mother smiles encouraging her vent. " This is insane! Oh my God are you serious? It's not funny. Tell me she is not doing this again, the second divorce isn't even final yet. Oh mom! Have you talked to her? Where is dad?"
No, she is not finished.
" Not to mention, the order is messed up. It is all messed up! I thought we were supposed to get married in birth order one after the other, you know, like first Lucy then Ivey, then me, then Rosemary, but oh no. No no no no no! Our family order is Lucy, Ivey, Ivey, Ivey. This has got to stop. I don't even want to get married now, but if I did there would be no time because we are all tied up, going to Ivey's weddings! You need to talk to her!"
Lorraine continues, flipping her long chestnut hair with each wave of her hand, emoting like a cartoon character. We are so obviously sisters. But don't tell her that. It makes her mad.
Throwing a quick glance around the room for me, Lorraine Lea then looks back at Mom all in a tizzy. Mother smiles encouraging her vent. " This is insane! Oh my God are you serious? It's not funny. Tell me she is not doing this again, the second divorce isn't even final yet. Oh mom! Have you talked to her? Where is dad?"
No, she is not finished.
" Not to mention, the order is messed up. It is all messed up! I thought we were supposed to get married in birth order one after the other, you know, like first Lucy then Ivey, then me, then Rosemary, but oh no. No no no no no! Our family order is Lucy, Ivey, Ivey, Ivey. This has got to stop. I don't even want to get married now, but if I did there would be no time because we are all tied up, going to Ivey's weddings! You need to talk to her!"
Lorraine continues, flipping her long chestnut hair with each wave of her hand, emoting like a cartoon character. We are so obviously sisters. But don't tell her that. It makes her mad.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
CHERRY HEARTS AND SHAVING CREAM
Seven o'clock and the summer sun is still high. Arriving on time, I stop down the street to gather myself and breathe. I just can't look good enough. Taking a last peek in the mirror and a spearmint altoid I pull back onto the road and roll towards his house. There it is. Parking next to his car, it doesn't go unnoticed that even his ride is hot.
This is the second time in one week, and I don't even know him. Well, I sort of know him. Kind of.
My heart is pumping out of control and for heavens sakes, I don't know why. He is just a man.
Surprised to see the door left ajar, I rap once. Pushing inward the scent carves an instant memory of apples and spice. "Hello?" I say, passing through. "Come on in" I hear, and feel myself grow aroused. Now I am nervous and excited. I hope I can catch my breath so he doesn't have to call 911 for an oxygen tank. That could put an immediate damper on things.
Pulling the door closed, I look up to see him rounding the hall wearing nothing but white boxer shorts, scattered with bright cherry hearts. And shaving cream. My gaze drops for a moment, scanning his body. Soft black hair blankets his broad chest and stomach. He is not real tall, but perfect.
Following the curve of his chiseled shoulders makes me weak in the knees. Mostly, I can't take my eyes off his face. His gorgeous strong jaw is covered in white foam as he flashes that infamous smile, making his eyes dance.
He says "I'm shavin" and something else. But I am distracted by the mere fact he is standing so close to me, and can't hear a word more he is saying. Smiling in return "no problem, take your time" I tell him, and walk towards the living room.
Several framed photos adorn the furniture. Focusing in on a three by five picture of him standing next to a blonde woman, their opposite body language jumps at me. She is captivated. He is not.
He likes looking at the ones he loves. Me too. I wonder what else we have in common. I wonder why his eyes look deep down sad.
While staring into the faces of people I don't know, two big hands encircle my waist as he turns me around, locking his lips on mine. " I've been thinking about this all day " he says taking me by the hand and again, down the hall. Reaching the first wooden bedpost, I stop and push him back so he lands on the soft green comforter, taking me with him.
Moving forward on my knees I lean in to hold his hands, pinning them over our heads. Slowly, kissing his mouth, his neck, his eyes. My oh my oh my. I have never met a man I could not resist. Until now.
This is the second time in one week, and I don't even know him. Well, I sort of know him. Kind of.
My heart is pumping out of control and for heavens sakes, I don't know why. He is just a man.
Surprised to see the door left ajar, I rap once. Pushing inward the scent carves an instant memory of apples and spice. "Hello?" I say, passing through. "Come on in" I hear, and feel myself grow aroused. Now I am nervous and excited. I hope I can catch my breath so he doesn't have to call 911 for an oxygen tank. That could put an immediate damper on things.
Pulling the door closed, I look up to see him rounding the hall wearing nothing but white boxer shorts, scattered with bright cherry hearts. And shaving cream. My gaze drops for a moment, scanning his body. Soft black hair blankets his broad chest and stomach. He is not real tall, but perfect.
Following the curve of his chiseled shoulders makes me weak in the knees. Mostly, I can't take my eyes off his face. His gorgeous strong jaw is covered in white foam as he flashes that infamous smile, making his eyes dance.
He says "I'm shavin" and something else. But I am distracted by the mere fact he is standing so close to me, and can't hear a word more he is saying. Smiling in return "no problem, take your time" I tell him, and walk towards the living room.
Several framed photos adorn the furniture. Focusing in on a three by five picture of him standing next to a blonde woman, their opposite body language jumps at me. She is captivated. He is not.
He likes looking at the ones he loves. Me too. I wonder what else we have in common. I wonder why his eyes look deep down sad.
While staring into the faces of people I don't know, two big hands encircle my waist as he turns me around, locking his lips on mine. " I've been thinking about this all day " he says taking me by the hand and again, down the hall. Reaching the first wooden bedpost, I stop and push him back so he lands on the soft green comforter, taking me with him.
Moving forward on my knees I lean in to hold his hands, pinning them over our heads. Slowly, kissing his mouth, his neck, his eyes. My oh my oh my. I have never met a man I could not resist. Until now.
Friday, September 3, 2010
HE FORGIVES ME
Moonlight glimmers over his shoulder as he pauses grinning wide........ what? I wonder with my eyes. "You kiss better than her" he says while tightening his hands around the small of my back and pulling me flat on top of him. Kissing with no measure of time as in a moment we are gone. Sigh, he finally forgives me.
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