THE RED CURTAIN

"Dad do you like my new curtain?"

  He looks up at the kitchen window and smiles.

   "Yes.  Yes I do, but do you know where that would really look good?  Draped across Carmen's ass." 

   "Dad!"

    Mother smiles and he continues.

   "But it looks good in the window too."

WHAT'S HER NAME THIS WEEK?

If you are southern you'll answer to many names, even if you are a dog. 

   My cousins dog was rescued from Dixie Highway.  No doubt Dixie would not keep her cute name.  Dixie became Dixie Dog then Hot Dog then Hog Dog then Hog then Lady Gaga and last I heard we were at Gaga. 

 Our new dog we rescued from a shelter where they were calling her Cher.  Unless she breaks out in a song, this has to go.

   Looking identical to Cruella Deville's black and white dalmatian coat and a tossed about cookie there are two obvious names.  Cruella and Oreo.  We settled with Cruella O.

  In the following five months since becoming a member of the "bitch brigade" as my mother so fondly refers to our dogs, Cruella's name has taken the typical southern morph.

  She went from Cruella to Crewy O to Crewy to Crewrooster to Rewrooster to Rooster.

  And every once in a while when the air-conditioner blows her ears in the wind we call her "Cher with the hair" just for fun.

   Heck, she doesn't care what we call her anyhow she is just so darned happy to be here.

RUN!

"Run" she tells me.  I've been running but he always catches up.  And when I'm driving he is always lookin at me from the rear view mirror.

WELL VERN,

the place was full.  But not a single girl in sight.

   Too bad for him.

"CAN'T YOU READ?"

Pulling into the emergency entrance of the hospital there is nowhere to make a legal stop.  An ambulance is unloading and signs are posted all about warning not to park your vehicle at any point in the drive through.  Too bad.  This warranted rebellion of a sign.

   Throwing it in park I grab the keys.  "Embry, hurry open the back door."  As my son moves to open Mrs.Brown's door I jump out to help her inside.

   To my utter disbelief a grouchy guard approaches me with quick intent.  "Can't you read?" He is bellowing from across the pavement.  Looking down at our dear family friend who is in major distress I do not have the patience for a fool.

"Yes.  I can read.

   Can you see?  Can you think?  She is ninety eight crippled and turning blue because she can't breathe.  But yes I can read and the sign says 'No Stopping'.  It should state 'No stopping or an antipathetic jackass will come make a fool of himself in public'."

  I keep moving with my parents elderly friend who looks at me, winks and whispers "I knew I got the right girl to bring me to the hospital."

MOON OVER MIAMI

Is beautiful.

   But, the moon out of Miami is a man a minute.

NEVER

Never ever till the end of time.  NEVER.  Thats when.

"LET ME TELL YA'LL SOMETHIN"

As dad would say.

   This little ole redneck girl from Coral Gables is gonna figure it out for herself.  Besides, the Lucylong road is scenic and I'm paying attention. 

MY TYPE

Placing the chairs side by side we sit and turn to face each other.  We are moving in sync without thought.  It's been this way all night.  He asks me something but I don't hear the words.  My eyes are soaking in his appeal.  After a simple minute he reaches down and pulls my chair, closing the mere one inch gap between us.

    OK that was sexy.  

     

IMPETUOUS

Smart doesn't necessarily slow somebody down.

THE DANCE

I never missed the dance before.  How did I let that happen!  Oh well.  His  dance-card may be full but my name is on it now and it has a big star by it.

I CAN FLY

The ocean sparkles in the sun while Jimmy Buffett sings about cheeseburgers n paradise.  Mother floats nearby, in her showercap , and reminds me.  "Jump out Ivey Mae so you clear the boat.  And don't land near me because I don't want to get my hair wet."

   After a slight hesitation I leap out and yell on the way down.  "I can fly! I can fly! I can fly!"  Wiping the salty water from my eyes after coming up for air I see Lucy smiling at Dad.  "We know she can fly but can she land."

CAREFREE

I was able to growup carefree.  My parents hard work and unselfish support allowed me to be young and innocent.   

    Problem with a sheltered upbringing is that if you miss the first step out, it is easy to fall.

THE AVOCADO TREE

The tree is only a bitch for a few weeks a year.  March winds insist swirling leaves all day long and I have a rake in my hand when I put the broom down.  She is a bitch all year round.

DON'T BE THIN SKINNED AROUND HER

Mother leans forward and lowers her voice.  "She has butter-bean teeth and could eat corn on the cob through a picket fence."

     Hayley is shocked.  She is young.  
"Grandma that is terrible!  Maybe she is poor."

My mom knows better and explains.  "If she were poor she would not be wearing expensive clothes, eating in this pricey restaurant and skiing in Park City.  I'm just saying that her teeth got to the door fifteen minutes before she did.  That's all."
 

THE MARRIED BIRDS

Something is up in the tree out front. 

    Winter is coming to a close and it sounds like the married birds are home for spring and summer.  Two mornings in a row I have heard singing!  A good sign. 

    Only one bird is singing at a time though and because it is pitch black outside I don't see them.

    Hhhhhhmmmmmm. 

   So either they had a great winter break when they flew further south and are delighted with their rekindled love, but taking turns to sing about it or there is only one bird and he is singing cause he ditched the other one flying home. 

KIDS SEE IT LIKE IT IS

Every parent instinctively plays this universal game for toddlers.  Where are your eyes?  Where is your nose?  Where is your mouth?  And we delight in their brilliance when they point to the right parts. 


One of my daughters got it more exact though, in my case.  Her description of the human face was befitting.
"Eyes, nose, lipstick."

THE WAY TO A MAN'S HEART

Really now?  Not sold on this one.  Although I do have a tee-shirt that says I CAN COOK TOO.  Boy was that ever a lie when I bought the shirt. 

JEGGINGS

Jeggings are a combination of jeans and leggings.   But, jeggings in a size 22 are no longer pants of any kind.  They are stockings.