November 8, 2009

• A Pre-Christmas Memory

  
  Note: This is my submission for Featured_Grownups.

  1973, A few days before Christmas…

  When I woke up that morning, my brothers (I have four of them, three older, one younger than me) were all yelling, “It’s snowing! It’s snowing!” I could hear them laughing and running around the house. I remember them calling to each other, asking, “Where are my gloves?” and “Where are my boots?” There were answers: “Who cares? I need to find MINE!” and “If they were up your ass, you’d know it!”

  I got up and went to my bedroom window. “Oooh! It’s sticking!” I squealed. “It’s gonna be a white Christmas!” I got dressed quickly; I remember putting my play clothes on over my pajamas, to be extra warm, and putting on two pairs of socks (I usually stole my brothers’ heavy socks in the winter).

  I ran into the kitchen from my bedroom, all bundled up, ready to go out, except for my boots. My parents were sitting at the kitchen table, drinking coffee, and they started to laugh.

  “It takes her an hour to get out of bed for school,” my father exclaimed, “But on a snow day… look at her! Ready before seven!”

  My mother said, “Breakfast first. Then you can go out and play.”

  My three older brothers were gone. “How come they get to go out?”

  My father said, “They’re shoveling. Do you want to shovel?”

  “Yeah!” Anything to be out in all of that fluffy ice-cold white stuff.

  My mother frowned. “Sit at the table. Ladies don’t shovel.”

  I looked at my dad, feeling hopeful, but he said, “You heard your mother. Breakfast.”

  “Ladies don’t get to do anything,” I grumbled, taking my coat off.

  I ate my eggs in record time, and stole some of my dad’s coffee when he wasn’t looking (I was allowed to drink coffee, but it was more fun to steal sips from his cup).

  “Can I go out now?”

  My father said, “As soon as Tadpole’s ready.”

  My dad took my younger brother, Tadpole and me out for a “Walk Through A Wintery Wonderland.” We walked to the telephone company so that my father could pay the phone bill. From there, we went to La Crown Market to pick up groceries, last minute Christmas food. Just before we entered the store, I whined about being cold. Tadpole said, “This’ll warm you up!” and shoved a handful of snow down the back of my coat.

  I squealed and picked up snow to throw at him… only, instead of hitting my younger brother’s face, I hit my father’s hand, knocking his cigarette to the ground.  I thought he would be angry, but he laughed and kicked a little snow at both of us…

  … And that’s how my father slipped backwards and fell onto his butt.

  Tadpole and I stood still and silent for a few seconds, unsure if the fall had hurt Dad (or at least ticked him off). When my father began to laugh, my younger brother and I attacked.

  Laughing like crazy people, we filled my dad’s coat with snow (most of it went down his back), and I rubbed snow in his hair. My younger brother fell on top of him, screaming, “Let’s bury him in the snow!”

  My father, covered in the white cold fluff, lifted his arms and growled, “I am the abominab-bubb-allll snowmannnnnnnnn!” and began tickling us. Other people going into and coming out of La Crown Market were quite entertained. I remember the Santa Claus Guy outside (I think he was a Salvation Army dude) cheering us on and laughing.

  I don’t know how long we played in front of La Crown Market, but I know that by the time we got the groceries (just about everyone in the aisles laughed at us) and walked home, the three of us were frozen through.

  My mother said, “Oh my God! My floor!” when we walked through the front door. Then she started laughing.

  She looked at my dad and said, “What the hell happened to you?”

  “They attacked me,” he said. “Your children are vicious, Mrs. G___.”

  My mother looked at me and said, “What did you kids do to your father?”

  Tadpole said, “Meh-uh started it!” (My younger brother had a speech impediment when we were kids. “Meh-uh” was how he said, “Vanessa”.)

  I had not started it, but I shrugged. “Mom, I couldn’t help it. He’s the abominab-bubb-allll snowmannnnn!” I lifted my arms and growled like my father had outside of the market.

  My younger brother laughed at my impression of our father.

  My dad, peeling off his coat, whined, “Your kids are mean to me!”

  My mother said, “I should send them out with you more often.”

  His eyes opened wide. He was indignant. “Hey! I’m freezing over here!”

  My mom said, “Yeah? I’ll warm you up!”

  They left Tadpole and me to get our own boots off. I looked at my brother and said, “How’s she gonna warm him up?”

  Tadpole shrugged and said, “I don’t know. Maybe she’ll stick him in the oven.”

   

  • 1:07 pm
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