I’m all about the themeing lately. Monday Music, Tuesday Tales, I Wants Wednesday…. Still working out Thursday (Things that Piss Me Off Thursday? Things I’d Like to do Thursday? Fourth Day Findings? [sounds a bit religious]) and Friday (I’d F*ck Him Friday? Too forward? Foto Finish Friday? In which I post fotos of my family or fhatever?)
Anyway. Tuesday Tales.
Many many years ago when I was but a wee lass on me mother’s knee, and David Cassidy ruled the airwaves, my mother and I were without a permanent residence. We relied upon the kindness of family and friends to house us. Now, because I was just too damn cute as a pre-schooler, the adults lurved the heck out of me. The kids? Not so much, and they would plot ways to hurt me. All because I was waaay cuter and smarter than they ever hoped to be.
So, my great aunt and uncle let us live with them for a few months in an old farm house. I was told I loved it there because there were ponies and fried chicken. I don’t remember that as much as I remember the house ALWAYS being under some kind of renovation. The project du jour in this tale involves installing some sort of stairwell or chimney, and that apparently involved cutting a circle on each of the floors from the attic to the main floor. Obviously (I hope) we kids were warned to stay away from the danger, but as my mother’s family was not very… child centered (except for me, because they luuuuuuuuurved me!)… there wasn’t a whole lot of supervision going on.
One day, as I was (as usual) filling the house with my effulgence my cousin Bubba called for me. I followed his lyrical, “Roooooooooosie! Rooooooooooosie, come up-staaaaaaaaairs” like the sailors did the sirens all the way to the attic. Imagine if you will my chubby little girl legs complete with ankle socks and scuffed Mary Janes taking those steps one excited step at a time. My cousins, my older cousins, wanted to show me something. I was finally a big kid.
When I finally made it to the attic I saw Bubba, his brother Bubba, my other cousin Bubbette, and some friend that always hung around the farm but I can’t even remember his face. They were all gathered around the hole in the floor. I remember their smiles and I remember Bubba motioning me over. “This is cool!” he said. “Watch this!” And then he crouched down, grabbed the side of the hole and dropped through to the next floor, landing safely away from the next hole that led to the ground floor. Brother Bubba and Bubbette quickly followed him and then ran back up the stairs and did it again. I was in awe. It was waaaay better than the circus I’d been to a few weeks before.
“Do you want to try it, Rosie?” Bubba asked. His earnest eyes looked into mine and I completely trusted him. I nodded. I wanted to try it. I wanted to be big like them.
Bubba nodded, then he, Brother Bubba and Bubbette slipped skillfully through the hole and called up instructions for me to crouch down, grab the sides and they’d catch –
I didn’t hear the last word because I was too busy falling 20 feet into the center of the living room.
I don’t remember exactly what happened after that on account of me being knocked out and all, but I’m pretty sure the three of them couldn’t sit comfortably for a week after. That however did not stop them from inventing other genius ways to end my life, but that’s a tale for next Tuesday.