Saturday afternoon found me trolling through the establishments of our little town, looking for loose tea, which, obviously, was not in the lumber store, the old fashioned department store (we actually have one of those), or the feed store; neither was it, however, in the grocery store.
Archive for February, 2011
Now as all of you with mothers know, the maternal instinct is hardwired to instill manners in our progeny — by example, by non-stop reminding, by force if necessary — and my personal preference is to set before my charges the image of a state dinner at the White House, prefacing each example with,
In the same manner, the places where I purchase dish washing liquid, toilet paper, bananas, crew socks, and grapes are also not my family. Not only are these people not there at 1 in the morning when one of the progeny is an hour over curfew, they are also not there when I need to find the paper plates and napkins aisle.
One’s genius with microbes and viruses and tropical diseases was all used up on the older siblings, he had plenty of his wretched eyesight to dump in my DNA, with the result that I began wearing eyeglasses in the third grade, when I thought to myself, “If only the teacher would write in BRIGHT RED chalk and MUCH BIGGER, I would be able to read it.”