A Christmas Story
Beckie and I just signed off from a wonderful conversation. Such a good time. She reminded me of a conversation I had with the mother of a student a few years ago about this time of year. I promise this conversation is true if not 100% accurate in the exact retelling!
We'll call the mother Sonja. Sonja probably was a communist in the 60s, ate mushrooms she found growing at Oak Ridge Labs, and smoked a pack of Happy Strikes daily. Entering the 90s, Sonja found herself the mother of a handicapped child, married to a stuffed shirt lawyer, and heading the election commission for various candidates for local and state offices. Sonja had come back to Earth for the most part. At least I thought she had.
One day, Sonja had come to pick up her child a little late from school and was in a bit of a dither. As we packed up her child to leave, she was explaining why she was late. She had been to the local Christmas decor manufacturer's open house getting things to fix her husband's office and a few things to put out at home. With lines and traffic and school zones, she arrived a few minutes later than she intended. "I still have to go home and take Mother out." Now, you must understand. I was under the impression she lived in her Mother's house because the old lady had passed away some years before, so innocently, I said, "Oh, I thought your mother had passed away, how nice you still have her with you." Whereupon she replied with no sense of affront or sign that I may have put my foot in it, "No, Mother's been gone about 10 years. I just pull her out of the cedar chest about this time every year so she can enjoy the holidays with the rest of us. Bye!" And then she swept out with her child, wild cape billowing in her wake, and my mouth hanging wide enough to pass a small herd of sheep through. My coworker, who had known her for years, explained that Mama resided in an urn which showed up on the mantle around Thanksgiving until just after New Year's and that she was part of the yearly decor.
Beckie suggested presents from Mama probably continue to show up under the tree. I can just tell you, I'm not going to that house for trick or treat.
We'll call the mother Sonja. Sonja probably was a communist in the 60s, ate mushrooms she found growing at Oak Ridge Labs, and smoked a pack of Happy Strikes daily. Entering the 90s, Sonja found herself the mother of a handicapped child, married to a stuffed shirt lawyer, and heading the election commission for various candidates for local and state offices. Sonja had come back to Earth for the most part. At least I thought she had.
One day, Sonja had come to pick up her child a little late from school and was in a bit of a dither. As we packed up her child to leave, she was explaining why she was late. She had been to the local Christmas decor manufacturer's open house getting things to fix her husband's office and a few things to put out at home. With lines and traffic and school zones, she arrived a few minutes later than she intended. "I still have to go home and take Mother out." Now, you must understand. I was under the impression she lived in her Mother's house because the old lady had passed away some years before, so innocently, I said, "Oh, I thought your mother had passed away, how nice you still have her with you." Whereupon she replied with no sense of affront or sign that I may have put my foot in it, "No, Mother's been gone about 10 years. I just pull her out of the cedar chest about this time every year so she can enjoy the holidays with the rest of us. Bye!" And then she swept out with her child, wild cape billowing in her wake, and my mouth hanging wide enough to pass a small herd of sheep through. My coworker, who had known her for years, explained that Mama resided in an urn which showed up on the mantle around Thanksgiving until just after New Year's and that she was part of the yearly decor.
Beckie suggested presents from Mama probably continue to show up under the tree. I can just tell you, I'm not going to that house for trick or treat.
posted by Rushton at
1:49 PM
1 Comments:
That is a wild story! Just wanted you to know that I did have a chocolate covered birthday...I ate a chocolate-marshmellow cream with pecans concrete from Sheridan's for lunch today and I just might have more ice cream on the way home tonight! Thanks for my birthday wishes...you are a freind of my heart, too! Isn't it wonderful to have such a small world?
By
Tammie's Thoughts, at 5:37 PM
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