One: In this I was an infant, and on this particular day, the story goes, I was sitting in a highchair in the kitchen. My eldest sister Frances came into the kitchen on her way to the pantry, and noted that I was eating an apple. On her way out, she looked at me and saw that my face was greasy. A greasy apple? I was eating a cube of butter.
Two: I must have been a bit older because I was talking. Seems my Uncle Joe and Aunt Jeanette had come to visit. The story says I was sitting on my aunt's lap. I do remember not particularly liking her because she was homely as a mud fence, and she said things that apparently made no sense to me. This last is demonstrated by the following exchange:
Aunt: "Would you like to come home with me?" (Oh, I was a sweet child, they say.)
Me: (Remember, I was small enough to sit on a lap)." Don't be absurd."
Now this story I sort of remember. And I can pin the date within a day or so. I think it was June 29, 1936. I say that because my nephew Jack was born on June 28, 1936. I was six years old.
"Donald, you're an uncle"
Me: "I can't be. I'm not old enough." To me an uncle was someone with a long beard. I wasn't even close to shaving, yet.
Humor time --
Do you still have a taste for your butter straight up? Granted 6 is young for an uncle but when I was a kid we lived next to a family with thirteen kids. Some of the aunts and uncles were born AFTER their nieces and nephews! That's confusing.
ReplyDeleteCute story. Cats have their own little personalities. Thanks for sharing!
ReplyDeleteMy grandmother had a nephew two years older than she was. And my first two kids, when they were little, if you left a stick of butter on the table, you'd find fingersweeps across it--I remember trying to figure out why they liked it so much. After the first two, I stopped leaving it out where they could push a chair to.
ReplyDelete