HOW DID YOU KNOW TO DO IT DIFFERENT?

Why didn't you know to do it different?  My sister says.

THE GOLF COURSE

As a non-golfer I thought the lakes around a golf course were decorative and designed to be pleasing on the eye.  Same with the swirling sculpted sand that looks so pretty from the aerial view on the golf channel.

   Well folks, I took up golf.
The lakes are golf ball aquariums and they ain't so pretty anymore.  And the only thing I can figure about the sand is.......it's there to make me mad. 

SHE AINT GONNA LOAN YOU A BOWL

My mother will do most anything for anybody anytime.  She helps with her heart and her hands and is sincere in her nature.  But things can get ugly if you want to borrow a bowl.

   My mother has an emotional attachment to her stuff.  She told dad when I was in high school to bury her with her Tupperware.  She was serious and still has the same Tupperware.  In particular she has an affection for bowls.  She loves her bowls.  And she likes buying bowls for other people.  Every time there is a cute bowl at a relatives house, it was a gift from my mother. 

   One Sunday afternoon my sisters and their families are visiting mom.  Seeing their cars parked out front, I walk over too.

   Joining my nephew on a love seat, we sit directly in front of a ceiling to floor cabinet at the edge of her dining set.  Just listening to the chatter around us we are content.

  Lorraine is going on about the intense Florida heat and Rosemary smiles from the corner of the room watching her husband unabashedly dive into biscuits and gravy. 

  My attention wanders to the wondrous display of mother's bowl cabinet when my nephew exclaims "man, that's a lot of bowls."
  
   There are bowls in every size,shape and color.  A bowl in green plaid and yellow polka-dots,cherry red ones and twenty solid white.  We count five each of the primary colors and oh the holiday designs are the cutest.  She has rabbit covered bowls in three descending sizes and some shaped liked carrots and eggs.  There are jelly bean bowls and a large oval football bowl.  No sport is left ignored, all in a usable bowl.  Halloween candy bowls in black and orange with Christmas bowls galore.  Striped bowls and shallow bowls, dipping bowls and pasta bowls.  Easily hundreds of bowls.

   As we continue to admire her collection Mother calls out to me from the kitchen.  "Ivey Mae do you want some spaghetti sauce to take home for the kids?"
That's easy.  "Sure mom.  Thanks." 

   But, not so fast.  Then she adds,  "Well run down to your house and bring back a bowl that I can put it in."

   Momentarily forgetting her affinity with the bowls, I suggest something insane. "Mom can't you put it in one of your bowls?   Then I'll take it home and dump it in one there and bring yours back.  I won't keep your bowl.  Besides I'm already here."

   Without the slightest hesitation she says " No, no, uuhh, I don't think I have any bowls"
My nephew and I look at each other and quietly burst out laughing, as we sit in front of the bowl shrine.

   "OK mom.  I'll go get a a bowl."

   So, she will do many things for many people but I'm tellin you the truth.  There is no need to ask because she ain't gonna loan you a bowl.

  

DO ME FIRST

The handsome doctor looks at me and asks.  "Who wants to go first?"  I know I'm the mom and protective by nature, but don't linger in my answer.  "Me me.  Look, I'm always scared and she is looking forward to it." 

   We both turn to my tall, shy daughter and she smiles.

   Laughing I say  "See.  At four years old she preferred to watch only the second half of the Titanic.  You know where the people suffer mental anguish beyond imagination while the ship tilts back and forth teasing the passengers as they scream in horror facing the inescapable slow torturous death in the freezing ocean.  She is not squeamish.

   I have a sister who doesn't mind needles and being cut on.  Y'all need to have your head examined.  I can faint at the mere thought of it."

   "So I'm going first." 
Pointing to Hannah I add.  "She can savor the moment."

SLOW SPEED

 Is covered at my house.

   My son has only one gear.  He approaches me while I water plants in the late evening light and asks.

 "Mom where is the string?" to which I reply,
 "What kind of string? Irritated he says,
 "You know sewing string." Looking at him I smile. 
 "Do you mean thread?"

   My son walks into his sisters room the other night and asks.
"Do you have a portable light?"  Looking up from her laptop she rolls her eyes and replies "Do you mean a flashlight?" 

ONLY FOOLS RUSH IN

I don't know who said that.  But it is true.

   My dad says "If you're gonna be dumb you'd better be tough."   My southern spirit may learn the hard way but you sure as heck don't have to hit me in the head with the same shovel twice.
  

DEVIL HORNS

I think this is so funny and the perfect Halloween get-up.  Simple while balancing out my personality.   Most need a costume.  Not me. 

   The little black devil horns are somewhat obscured by the thickness of my hair.  Yet once you see them it is hard to look at anything else because the longer you focus the more real they become.  Hilarious.   I suppose it's the brazen element of truth that makes it comical.  At an instant glance I don't appear out of the norm.

   I'm dressed for a typical weekend night in jeans and sexy sandals.  My black tee is long sleeve but the cotton is woven thin and perfect for Florida trick or treating.

   A couple minutes after arriving at the party my cousin comes walking down the cobwebbed hall to greet us.  I notice him glance at the top of my head as I admire his cowboy accesories.  Then without warning and a straight face he says in complete and utter relief, 
 "Whew!  They finally came out!

   With that comment we are laughing like children who have the knowledge of adults.  He leans forward to take a closer look and exclaims further.

"Damn Ivey Mae if they don't look like they are growing right out of your head!"  It has never taken much for us to crack each other up.  But this is a riot.  Shoot, my husband thinks it is by far the funniest thing he has ever seen.

   Now what's really gonna be funny is when I wear them Christmas and Easter.  Heck, I might not take them off.

HIS MIDLIFE CRISIS

"Would you look at this!"
He says, startling me out of my dinner dishes concentration.  Turning around from the sink window he is almost standing on top of me.  It must be important.  Usually he doesn't get up from the TV unless he has to use the bathroom or get another glass of wine.

"You scared me.  Whats wrong?"
He leans down with disgust and points to his temple in horror and says

"Look look I'm loosing my hair!"
"Well move over a little and let me see."
Gently reaching my hand to touch his hair he jumps back and hollers.

"Be careful will ya!  Take it easy!  You're going to pull the rest out.  Do you have to be so rough?  Damn it.  At this rate I'll be bald by the weekend and here you come ready to help it along."
Obviously a sensitive matter.  I stifle my laugh while he retreats to the den. 

   Subsequent to this unsettling revelation of typical male balding, for three days he hid under a plant in the front yard after work.  Then we had at least a full week of baseball caps, followed by weeks of I don't know? Rooster Hair? Cock-a-too hair?  He let the top grow and it is sticking straight up.
  
  With all of us gathered around the table for supper Hannah  giggles, asking "Daddy what is wrong with your hair?" 

"Nothing is wrong with my hair.  Why?  He barks back instantaneously.
Then both girls chime in laughing "Oh Daddy you look like a chicken or or a turkey or something that would fly." 

    That brought us to where we are now, at the gel-stage.  We have mega-watt family size gel containers in all of the bathrooms.  There are travel size gel tubes everywhere I turn.  I have dried them in the dryer from his pockets, found them in all compartments of the cars and trucks, they've been used by the dogs as messy chew toys, and lost under the couch and in the bed.  By mistake I packed one in his lunch thinking it was sanitizer.  He probably thought I was giving him a hint.

     Tonight the twins start laughing and ask "Daddy can you sing like Elvis too?  This sends him to the den to retrieve his hat and he places it on top of the hair gel, for the remainder of the evening. 

    Before bed, the last thing he does is remove the hat. 

If he didn't look like poultry before he sure does now, with hat hair. 

MAD AS A WET HEN

It's been several weeks since the road trip and she won't let me in the house.  She reluctantly took the cream-cheese brownies and lasagna, from the doorway.

THIS BIG OLE HOUSE

The new house echos.  It's huge.  Rolling over on the lush powder blue carpet I come right up to my reflection in the vast mirror door.  Looking past my eyes staring around me I'm thinkin wow, I can fill this whole place up with stuff.

   After lining my brand new closet with wacky pack stickers, this room I don't have to share starts feeling a little too big and way too quiet.  Jumping up I run out to look for Lucy.  Running down the hall I turn left and skip along another long forest green hallway.  The thick softness beneath my feet is great.  I can't resist and drop to roll the complete distance to her door.   I wonder if she feels scared way back here.  I would.

   "Hey what ya doin mildoin?"

My sister with her long blonde hair smiles, while peering over her book at me.  I continue to roll on her carpet just as plush but soft daffodil yellow. 

   "I'm reading.  What are you doing?  Rolling around the house?  Be careful of the stairs Ivey Mae.  Thats all we need for you to fall on your head the first night here."

   "This place is really cool.  It's so big though.  Are you a little scared?"
   "Scared of what?  The doors are locked.  Dad installed a state of the art alarm system.  Don't worry.  It won't seem so big once all the furniture gets here.  We are very fortunate Ivey Mae."

   "I know.  Do you care if I sleep in here with you tonight?"

   "Thats fine.  After we eat go get your blankets."

  Lucy closes her book and we walk down the hall together but only for a moment then I dash to the top of the stairs and count how fast I can make it down.

   While eating, all of us decide for the first night in our new home we prefer to be together.  Mother and dad are out to dinner and there is so much more space that we feel isolated.  Topping off the meal with my sister's homemade donuts dipped in sugar and cinnamon, we get our things and meet back in Lucy Lou's room to watch tv. 

   It didn't take long from the excitement of the day and each one of us drifted off.  All seven of us, in my sisters full size bed.

   Around midnight, as the story goes my parents return home.  Climbing the stairs they go first to check on the baby and her crib is empty.  Next they go to my brothers room and there is no one in his bed either.  The same happens for myself and all of my other sisters. 

   Finally walking to the very back of the second floor they find us.  Lucy Lou is the only one awake.  She hears dad whisper to mom in the faint glow from the foyer chandelier. "Well Slim, I would a never built this big ole house if I knew they were gonna pile up in here like a bunch of puppies." 

  

  

IV'E DECIDED

I want a blue kitchen just like Aunt Edna.

JUNE THIRD

The room gets heavy with thought as minutes fold into hours.  This third day of June is a hot afternoon playing out like a nostalgic dream. 

   Preparing the table for lunch I place his silverware down in slow motion because reality is pulling my heart strings.  He sits then turns to look at me.   Standing next to him like so many many years before, the familiarity of long ago sweeps me away in an unforeseen moment.   Years rush back like falling cards and my heart lodges in my throat.  The vulnerability of our love is hard to look at under the light he would not have picked.
        

SHE MAY TIE YOU

Dad leans over and pats me on the shoulder.  Then calm and slow in his reassuring twang he softly tells me.  "She may tie you but she ain't never gonna beat you."

IT'S A GOOD THING

His truck has a huge console in the middle.  It's a good thing or I would've slipped right on over. 

THE PERFUME BOX

My mother comes from a long line of good bathers.  It is a standing joke amongst my maternal cousins of not having any skin left if we stayed with Grandmaw for more than a night or two.  You'd just have to see it to believe it.
   Mom carries this tradition on with a modern twist.
She doesn't supervise our baths but does inquire as to what we washed and how many times we washed it.   
  Stepping out of the shower I wrap in a luxe blue towel  and hurry down the hall still dripping wet.  Who has time to dry off.  My sister is lounged on my bed waiting to beat me at checkers.  As soon as I shut the door Mom starts calling my name from the bottom of the stairs.
   With my room at the very top landing I am immediate access to mother hollering up the foyer.  We have an intercom system but sure as heck don't need it. 
   "Ivey Mae did you wash your hair?"
   "Yes mom."
   "Did you wash it twice?"
   "Yes."
   "Did you condition it?"
   "Yes."
   "Did you rinse it until the water ran clear?"
   "Yes."

 Looking at Lucy I roll my eyes because we both know what is next. And sure enough she doesn't let us down.  I mock our mother in silence as her words boom up the vaulted ceiling.

   "Did you wash your perfume box?"
  Defiantly ignoring her question I look at my sister instead.

"God when is she going to quit asking us stuff like this?  I'm sixteen.  I think I know how to wash my hair and my own stupid bottom.  What the heck?  When did she stop askin you that?"

   My sister groans.  "She still tries to ask me.  You just don't hear her because your radio is too loud.  I am in college for goodness sakes!  But you know what she always says."

   Lucy Lou stands up and puts both hands on her hips and shakes her head in disgust.  Then in her best mom voice, she correctly quotes her.

  "Well girls it's called a perfume box for good reason and it can't be washed too often.  Marilyn Monroe liked the smell of her perfume box.  But she was on drugs."