Category Archives: jealousy

Scar Stories

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While at the wine bar last night, the group of eight were all getting to

know each other. I was meeting someone my youngest daughter just

started dating. My family members (my 2 daughters and daughter in

law) were meeting my ‘new guy’ Lenny. A dear couple, friends of youngest

daughter were there also to meet my youngest daughter’s man in her life,

Jeff. While shooting the breeze, an unexpected question brought up an

interesting subject matter. We may not have treaded on it had the question

not been brought up…

My oldest daughter (“matchmaker”) asked Jeff how he got a scar on his

face that looked to her like the heel of a beer bottle. It was two half circles

on the brow line. She then, to give him a feeling of ease, said,

“I’ll tell you my scar story, if you will tell me yours?”

My “group of four” (oldest daughter and daughter in law, Lenny and myself)

had consumed our bottle of Shiraz imported from Spain. Daughter and DIL

had ordered a chilled bottle of Moscata. The other group of four, youngest

daughter, Jeff, and her couple friends were drinking a beer, and 3 had had

bourbons from the bourbon bar downstairs. We all had removed ourselves

from inside and were sitting outside at black rod iron cafe tables. People

were streaming by, festive, several men and women wearing Santa hats

and Christmas necklaces. Downtown Delaware had done a great time of

advertising “Christmas in July.”

Once repeat drink orders were placed and I had ordered a hot artichoke

cheese dip to share on pita triangles and iced water, we were settled in

to hear the two stories, plus one added at the end.

Jeff said as a UPS delivery man, he ran into a wide variety of clientele.

He had been 22, eight years ago, and a blonde, pretty and young, 18 year

old, asked him to come back after his shift to “party with her and her

friends.” He came back being a red blooded male and thinking he would

not mind being an escort to these women.

While at a party he became in charge of a group or party of 4 women.

He made us laugh when he said, “You know they were like a gaggle of

geese, trying to herd them when we were going to take off to go to

another house to party.” I would get 3 by the door and one would

wander off seeing a friend to talk to, losing her in the crowd.”

Jeff said they finally moved to a less desirable neighborhood in Dayton,

and was concerned by the dark alleys. Probably had a premonition or

something because by the end of the night, he heard one girl being

molested and accosted by a bigger man. He approached, throwing

caution in the wind, totally weaponless, never carrying a thing when

he did go out, EVER, he said.

The buddies of the accoster/molester rounded their group up and

proceeded to drag him outside, beating, kicking and he was almost

passed out. He was finally discovered by the blonde pretty girl  who

emitted a shriek. She had seen his face bleeding and the gang of angry

men circled round him like a pack of wolves.

The young woman gathered her “gaggle of geese” and since the molested

girl was not among their group, hoped for the best in that situation. They

left the party, one of the girls apologizing for the beating Jeff had endured

and one dialing “911.”

We pondered the repercussions of staying, maybe pressing charges. We

all felt Jeff and his group could have done this, safely, but he kept shaking

his head. He wanted to tell us these men, did not use weapons, had kicked

so hard one side of his face that a rock had impressed the curves of the scar

into his face. It looked like hamburger or mush, he dropped his “charges”

safely at their homes, since they were only minors of 18, that was another

angle to fear him having to face consequences too.  He also felt the men

who were the perpetrators were “preppy UD college types, whereas I

was a working stiff.” (University of Dayton.)

The next day, Sunday, he showed up with his face being still red, bruised

and two moon shaped scars on his browline. “You wanna bet my Dad and

Mom were ‘hot!'” They were totally wanting to take him to the police station,

get his face photographed, and file charges against the young men. They also

felt it was not funny, when he was eating Sunday dinner, to keep pulling little

pebbles out of his face! Jeff never got stitches and that is the end of his “scar

story.”

My oldest daughter, matchmaker, said, “Well mine is not as exciting as all

that but I will tell you my brother’s story after I tell you mine!” (Brother,

my son, was at home watching his brood of four children so DIL could have

a rare night out.)

“I was four years old, Mom was working at the battered women’s shelter,

The Lighthouse in Lancaster, Ohio. We had a very nice, elderly babysitter

who lived out in the country. She had a lot of animals and a friendly collie

dog. We rode that poor dog, along with the goats and other animals. One

day, my babysitter whose grandkids were over also, gave the dog a big

meaty bone. I made the mistake of trying to take it to throw it, like we

did with other things, ropes, balls, and sticks. The dog turned and bit

a big chunk of my browline skin off, you could see the bone!”

She turned to me, saying, “Finish the story, Mom!”

I told our gathering that it was sickening when I got to the hospital to

meet the babysitter, daughter, son, and the two visiting grandchildren.

I picked up the big ice pack and saw her brow bone exposed. There was

very little flesh remaining there. When the ER surgeon came in, I took

one look at his youth and requested him to please call a plastic surgeon

and they sent for one in Columbus.

I turned to Vermeal, the babysitter, saying, “No offense and don’t worry,

things like this happen, I am not mad. I would like to know how good is

your house insurance?”

She agreed, the plastic surgeon and the repair work would have to be

covered. She was very apologetic, saying, “I should have put Chrissy

outdoors with the bone and had the kids sit at the table for lunch. Giving

the dog a bone while she was hungry and the little ones around was a big

mistake. I am so sorry.”

I sued and got a second amount of money ($11,000) that was an award

given to my oldest daughter in a trust fund to be used for further plastic

surgery, smoothing out her then, arrowhead shaped scar that is pointing

towards her eyebrow about 3 inches with two sides. She chose to buy a

car and did not get it fixed. The family did not hold it against me, nor I

against them. We continued to be friends and exchanged Christmas cards

for years.

The story about Jeff and the attack, reminded both my daughters and my

son’s wife of his efforts to handle a “damsel in distress.” My son was going

from one bar, Clancey’s to a bar three doors down, the Backstretch while

accompanying a girlfriend, the one before he married my DIL.

In between the two bars there is a Subway, all on South Sandusky Street.

In front of Subway, a man with a wild and threatening pose was facing

my son and then girlfriend. He shouted from a few paces away moving

quickly toward my son, “That’s my girlfriend! Give her to me!” No matter

what, in three other circumstances in my son’s childhood where people

hurt or hit him, I taught him repeatedly never to go full force and act

tough back. He had to have stitches while in elementary school when a

big boy who was in special education classes hit him over the head with

a backpack full of large books. While getting stitches and filing a police

report at the hospital, the police officer reaffirmed my request not to

defend himself while in dangerous situations where he knew he was

not big enough to end up safe and sound.

In this case, it was night, not an alley, lots of people around, but still

my son put his hands down, palm side down pushed backwards to

look as in supplication. His girlfriend, Danielle, stood behind him and

the wild man drew a large knife, looking crazed and swinging it, still

repeating his earlier shout. My son used a calming voice, saying,

“Hey, Man, I know how it is, women are always breaking up with me,

this is a small town, you run into them with a new guy and you want to

get even.”

The man screamed at him, “You don’t know how I feel at all!” while

lunging forward and slashing his chin, drawing blood that poured out.

People standing in the window of Subway had called the police, they

arrived to approach just as the knife was wielded. Man was put into

custody, either drunk or needing some kind of psychiatric care. I was

called, since he was still on my medical plan, met him at the hospital.

The cop there taking down the notes, turned to me, saying in a very

respectful way,

“Your son did the right thing, M’am. He did not lift a finger or use any

aggressive moves at all. I have six eyewitnesses to this scene. First of

all, you raised him well. Second, it is useless when someone is using

physical and verbal abusive language to try and fight back. Thirdly,

he protected not only the girl but a knife would have done serious damage

to his hands.”

I smiled and my son laughed. He said, “I took Tae Kwan Do and all I could

think of, on this hot, sticky summer night, was ‘Why in the world did I have

to wear my flip flops?!”

The police man, son, and I (proud Mom of a pacifist) all laughed! The image

of him kicking his foot up and pivoting, with a flip flop flying through the air

gave us a funny picture. No protection there in those ‘fighting feet  of steel!’

This closes the three scar stories told at Vito’s Wine Bar. All parties walked

home safely and no one was harmed in the writing of this tale.

Love Story with Peggy + Tim

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Peggy is a friend I met the first day of my recent five year job.

She was sitting at a breakroom table and had the biggest smile

as I walked by with my insulated lunch bag. She did not have to

say a word, because that smile caught my eye!

I asked, “Do you mind if I sit here?” Another woman turned towards

me and I read her name tag. I smiled at her, too. They both said, “No,

please join us.” As soon as I sat and took a few bites they asked me a

few questions and we chatted about my past and their children. As

our conversation was winding down, I mentioned that my daughter

has a very good friend with the woman’s last name but we sometimes

call her “Botch.” They both exclaimed and said,

“That’s our niece!”

Anyway, I have mentioned Lu’s story so here is her sister in law’s story

about how she met Tim. Peggy likes to dance and go out around the

Delaware County area. She was out at Roop’s (owner Al Roop) at what

was once called the Army Navy Bar. She was up dancing with her good

friend, Cathy, and this guy who she called “cute” jumped in between

them and started to dance!

I listened and watched her expressions and off she went telling all the

cool things he did: rode motorcycles, worked at Honda in Marysville,

owned his own house, and liked to fish up at Lake Erie.

We talked for a few days in a row when Peggy and I met about Tim.

I really remember the story because I finally met him and it sunk in. She

loves this man!

They have been dating, off and on, for 18 years! Tim owns a house in the

country, Peggy lives in a house about 2 blocks from where I lived in a

housing development “Lexington Glen.” She is a “city” girl and he is a

“down home country boy.”

When I met Tim, I was up in Marion with Bill at a bar. I had talked Lu, her

husband Ted, Peggy, asked her to try to get Tim to come up there too. We

laughed because the guys all went out to smoke and the girls went out on

the dance floor. It was karaoke night and Lu, Peggy and I wanted to sing

but had to get the Playbook or whatever they call the song listings book

that you choose available songs with the words that revolve on the karaoke

machine.

Peggy and Tim wanted to sing a duet. We all watched them  get up and

proceed to start a song, Peggy hollered, “Wait, wait, can we start over!

Tim, aren’t you going to sing louder?!”

Anyway, the audience or bar crowd, all hooted and laughed at that one!

The guy restarted the song, (okay it is corny), “Islands in the Stream.”

(Dolly Parton and Kenny Rogers’ song, if there are young readers who

have no clue about how this song goes and the BIG CHALLENGE this

one is to sing!!)

Once again, Tim and Peggy started to sing and it was funny and a sight

to behold! We all clapped at the end. Tim whispered some words until

he got confident and Peggy belted most of them with a nice clear bell

toned voice. She can sing well!

They hugged and walked down towards our table with arms wrapped

around each other and Bill turned to me and said,

“That is what love looks like.”

So true!

But, everyone may want to know their road has been rocky. Tim had a

fire out at his house, he lived with Peggy for awhile. He even tried to

give her a ring, proposed and she wore it for awhile.

They have month long fights and they have spaces in their life that

Peggy feels uncomfortable due to fear of her handsome man running

off or getting “bored with me.”

When they are together at the bar, dancing, singing or at poolside at

Wesleyan Woods pool or Hayes Colony pool you can hear Peggy’s

bell sounding voice and her pealing laughter at his jokes. He is a big

teaser and tickler.

They may be the closest they can be where they are at.

This is my first “almost” happily ever after story. Hope it makes you smile!

Mysteries Solved!

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I am a big mystery reader and watcher of movies, t.v. and now,

currently have a little mystery in my life. No! It is not a new man!

I have someone who has been trying to goad me, parry with me

and sometimes has been outright mean! I have written a murder

mystery of over 500 pages, so I am good at solving and also,

deducing from the facts and clues given!

I have grandchildren who love this book called, “The Mystery of

the Missing Peanuts.” Donald Duck is the detective and answers

his telephone, “Mysteries solved!” The zookeeper is Mickey Mouse

and there are missing peanuts. We, as adults, know the solution

ahead of the game. But it is a fun book going through animals to see

if they can reach the bag of peanuts through a hole in the building.

It includes “setting the trap” where there is a bell and string and

blue paint to mark the feet of the guilty parties. I won’t ruin the fun

unless you ask but I do love the little pranksters who are the ones

who have been stealing the peanuts! Their just rewards are they

have to work off the peanuts by sweeping up peanut shells that

visitors to the zoo leave behind.

I also loved the Sir Arthur Conan Doyle books, now of course

everyone knows the famous character of Sherlock Holmes. I

happened to like the one that PBS had his Watson using the

Internet and Holmes was kind of like a savant with his seeing

the details of situations. I do like Jonny Lee Miller’s quirky

and sometimes bizarre Sherlock Holmes on television with

Lucy Liu as Watson. Mainly, I was blessed with a strange

father who read us the mysteries  when we had outgrown

his favorite, A.A. Milne’s “House at Pooh’s Corner.”

I am a fan of Edgar Allen Poe who has a very morbid, dark

approach to his short stories. They are not considered mysteries,

per se, but are very much intriguing. My two favorites are the

most common ones, “A Telltale Heart” and “The Cask of

Amontillado.” I may have referred to Toby Keith’s song which

has him walling in a woman because he is upset with her, but

ends up walling himself in. It is titled, “It’s a Little Too Late.”

It is an interesting video on YouTube but it has been awhile

since I saw it… It definitely is an indication that the lyricist

knew the story that Edgar Allen Poe wrote!

This is the debate at my lunchroom table, several women and

two men. They think that someone who used to be a commenter

on my blog knew me. I think that someone who used to write

oppostional things, sarcastic comments, accused me once through

a thinly veiled parallel story of “lying.” I have been told by the men

“Hey, this would make an interesting story to write!” and one of the

women said, “Why don’t you tell this to your blog?” Getting the angst

out is their thought process.

My thoughts are I have not very often rubbed someone the wrong way

before. I was a little distracted at first when they started subtly jabbing

at me. Then, there were a few parries where I ended up writing a

response… And right before Easter, at the library I am checking my

posts and responses, that was the final stab. I had a hard time putting

it out of my mind over the weekend and then, on Monday I was sadly

consumed with the questions, “Why?” and more importantly, “Who?”

Hopefully, writing this down will relieve my mind and also, you may

have some suggestions about past episodes of these kinds of things.

My Mom went off on the “jealousy” tangent. She talked about a woman

who had liked my Dad and how she had caused a ruckus in her life for

a short while. I did write about that in a blog/post “Jealousy Happens

at Any Age” or some sort of title. I told her the details that were being

thrown around indicated a knowledge of my personal life and I had

felt attacked.

End result: I “spammed” him or her! That is all I could figure out to do!

If you know a permanent block system let me know! And don’t worry,

my mind is calm and free of any fears of repercussion. Time with my

beloved mother and all six grandchildren plus my children over the

weekend should have wiped it out. I had some huge hugs from a

couple of friends and that finished it off and wiped away the hurt totally.

A great quote of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle,

“For strange effects and extraordinary combinations,

we must go to life itself,

which is always far more daring

than any effort of the imagination!”

Intriguing phone call

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We all imagine this sometime in a relationship. Taking the phone

and dialing out all the numbers that seem suspicious! Especially

when alcohol and unusual circumstances make us doubt our

partner. Don’t they call it ‘drunk dialing?’

I got a call yesterday night that was funny more than upsetting

(at least to me!)

The woman on the other end said, right off the bat, “I am calling

all the women on my boyfriend’s cell phone contact list. I hope you

don’t mind if I ask you one question?”

I felt for her. I said, “Go ahead, I have been in some nervous or jealous

moments considering the same action you are doing now.”

She started to cry. She said I was so “kind and understanding.” I wanted

to ask her questions but knew if she were to volunteer information that

it might complicate the situation.

I ended up saying, “Might as well blurt it out!”

The distraught woman asked in her quavery voice, “Have you just recently

started seeing someone?” I said, “No, but you must have a follow up

question now!” She said, “If you just gave your phone number within the

past two weeks, don’t trust the man! I have been in a 9 month relationship.

From time to time I check my boyfriend’s cell phone while he is busy or in

the shower.”

She concluded, “Now, suddenly there are five new women’s phone numbers

added to his list.”

Again, I could feel her pain. Been there, done that.

I was not sure it would be appropriate to share that, though. I just tried to end

the conversation by saying, “I hope you find the person that you feel is the guilty

party. Believe me, ‘where there’s smoke, there’s usually fire!'”

I wondered aloud too, “I hope the person that has my phone number got it

from my art work card being posted somewhere or somehow this man is a

friend of mine from work, and he needed my phone number. I also live in

an apartment building downtown that gets plowed first and I have been known

to drive people home to and from work, if they need a ride.”

The woman said, “I don’t want to say my boyfriend’s name, it would probably

get back to him, this way, hopefully the warning is out there in the cosmos

that the man may be already in a relationship.”

Have any of you done something along this line? How would you feel if you

were looking at your significant other’s phone and noticed several new

numbers? Would you have hung up on this crazy woman at the moment she

reached out to you?

Adults at a Little Girl’s #4 Birthday Party (rated PG 13)

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This is strange but my darling granddaughter had a wonderful

fourth birthday party. Her father had baked potatoes (rolled in

butter and then sprinkled with sea salt) with all the fixings.

(Sour cream, cheese, chives, bacon bits…Yummy!) He also

had made chili and hot dogs. His wife had made homemade

baked three cheese macaroni and cheese. People were putting

different combinations together. They had set up a bonfire in

the back yard for after the little ones wore themselves out with

balloons and party blowers. While these kids were running

around the guys were gathered out by the fire, the women

were all sitting on the sofa and love seat.

I brought up my recent blogging about Jill, my coworker and

almost in a collective sigh, these women opened up. One

started (not my opinion so don’t get mad!) by saying, “Men

are pond scum!” She is married and has a little girl named

Hailey who is almost as cute as my granddaughter! They are

good friends. Without mentioning much details that would

embarrass the poor woman, she did tell us she had found her

husband often covering up the fact he is online in a singles’

only chatroom. This made us groan and also, give sympathetic

comments.

Then, to my horrors, another woman tells us her husband had

been checking out some porn sites and not too responsive to her.

She complained he used to sit by her while watching t.v. after her

kids were asleep, now he is in the office on his computer with the

door closed.

Last person to comment on this subject mentioned a coworker calling

and that was not too cool because her husband seemed rather happy

to hear the voice and was joking a lot with the person. When asked

about it, he responded by telling her the woman’s name and saying

they were “buddies at work.” Hmmm… sorry, ever suspicious!

When this kept up a bit, my daughter said, “Well, this is not so upsetting

but worries me, I have a single female neighbor who seems to be looking

out her window to see when my fiancé comes home and then seems to

have more than a couple times so far, things she cannot reach or do for

herself. I want to tell her, “Back off, woman!”

The youngest woman in the room, going to college and also, waiting tables

nodded her head.  She followed with a strong, “You go, girl! I would not

give that woman my man more than once without going over while he was

gone and talking to her. I would tell her how hard it was for you as a single

mother but you found ways to fix things by yourself. And offer her your step

stool, for Pete’s sake!”

This young woman says she had started to be the “shoulder to cry on”

for a couple of men lately. She has made an independent move by saying to

some of them, “Hey, I am not your counselor, I have no experience nor course

work that makes me an expert.” She said the last 2 boyfriends had told her all

about their exes and pretty soon, they took off with a fresh start (who she

assumes did not listen to their getting over the last girl’s blues!)

It was woman power at its finest, in the midst of kids running in and needing

their noses wipes and a diaper changed on a toddler. I did not need to pitch in

my opinion, taking a page from the youngest, “I’m not a counselor nor do I have

the coursework to give me any authority to answer or suggest solutions!”

 

Tying up a bunch of loose ends…

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I hope that you won’t mind this! It won’t have bullets or  use power

point but my post today will zoom through a few things my friends

have asked me to fill in the information or more details about!!

Tom is a nice man who is busy with his family, children and grand

children. He is going to keep me in mind for a night “on the town,”

in his own words. Sometime before the end of the year, he says!

As far as my friend Joe is concerned we are going to stay friends who

may not meet again until it is warmer, go for a walk or go fishing. He

hates the cold weather and is not in the mood to eat out, have coffee

or try to play cards. He says his sister Theresa, “Terry” is missing me

but she lives almost 45 minutes south of here so I may not see her for

awhile either. I got my photo album together and sent a few spare pics

to the both of them.

The man who went to prison, what a character, I wish I could really

write a book because Jerry may have a potential best seller with all of his

crazy  antics and scary stories! It would be a spellbinding movie, too! He

wants to take me to an Italian restaurant in southern Columbus

in our own “little Italy” which is called Italian Village. I may go! After

all, I have a car, we can meet in a public place and it is always nice to

know someone with his skills, if you remember what I wrote! Ha ha!

Bill is still trying to make a relationship work with the biker chick. He

had a nice time taking her for a hike before it got cold. He also took her to

Red Lobster, which I am jealous about, we used to go there! Just kidding!

I am hoping she will be on her good behavior since their one problem was

that when out in a local bar, she seems to know everyone! He also said he

doesn’t like to drink, it makes him dizzy. This is due to his taking high doses

of painkillers for his back. He says he is “Mary’s flavor of the month!” And

Mary texts him all the time which makes him think she likes him. More later…

Jill is still unsure and insecure of her man she is interested in. She comes in with

her concerns and we debate and analyze them over our 2 breaks and lunch, unless

another subject comes up. From time to time, I bring up my variety show of men and

that also amuses the 2 men under 30 plus 3 women my age. We sit at a table with 6

chairs. Jill’s latest concern was that her man looked her right in the eye and said he

had not seen a woman named Pam. That very week, Jill got on his email that he did

not close and looked at the emails in the trash. There was one which Pam had sent

her guy and it said, “Thank you for coming over and fixing my window. Also, for

noticing my hair and complimenting me on it.” Now, here was our debate subject: Does

Jill confess she read this note? Does Jill give up the man who may just be helpful?

Does Jill continue to distrust him although the note did not indicate any hanky panky?

A long while ago, I wrote about a man named Gary who worked at a local paper. I had

asked him to check out my friend who was going to have a table at our local seasonal

street market. She was selling pillows and ornaments for money to help her daughter

stuck in Africa, waiting for magistrates to approve her adoption of  a 4 year old boy.

Gary was the one who did not think she looked like his kind of woman and I had

written him off as a friend from the online dating. It upset me that he did not engage

her in conversation, just judged her by her “cover.” She has the sweetest personality

and a charming voice, nice clothes, pretty hair and eyes, she is attractive. I asked my

daughter and someone else I know who knows her, all agreed she would be neat to

date. Anyway, Gary is a sports nut and maybe that would not have worked. But I did

email him about my trips to the lake, he is also from Lake Erie and loves the islands,

wineries, and other sights. We may patch a friendship back out of that matchmaking

disaster yet!

Those seem to be the subjects that are asked about while I am online or  blogging. I hope

you will let me know if there is a story you liked and want to know the ending or what’s

happening! Thanks for your patience!

Jealousy is everywhere

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I have been wondering if people can outgrow jealousy. I have also thought about how healthy is it? How much is

normal? I had looked at a young man’s blog, saw a post titled about jealousy. Was quite happy to find out an attractive

man feels some jealousy from time to time.

I was heartened to that fact. I have been thinking that being online dating site makes sense to find the perfect match. But

I have also equated it to the “Bachelorette” where I feel so excited there are multiple “winks” waiting for me when I check

out my site. But I also hate the thought of competition and it sends me into a mental and sometimes psychological tailspin

when someone casually mentions a few other people they are dating. I guess I may have said this already, but I know what

I am doing but my mind speculates on what THEY are doing! You may have noticed I have a wild imagination anyway!

So, the goal is what is needed to be kept in mind, the light at the end of the tunnel, a head on the other pillow and

someone who cares if I am the one with the messy bedhead beside them.

How do you tamp down your jealousy? I am really curious! I try to not revert to teenager -hood. Made up word, but it is the

place where I would pitch a fit if my boyfriend was not waiting at my locker between period 4 and 5, when he was talking

to someone I perceived “prettier” or “more popular.” I had a healthy bit of self confidence many times during my teens, but

it would all dissipate or go off kilter when in a relationship.

I asked my Mom how she handled those times with my Dad. She said there were times he would be traveling and he would

call home to tell her that he and the other men on his research “team” were out at a seafood buffet, had drunk cocktails

and were  heading to (yes, honest to Pete) a Strip Club! She said that she would remind him she was at home with 3

children that he had contributed sperm to produce, eating hot dogs and mac & cheese so, he better behave himself!

Mom also mentioned a “burr in her butt” or a “thorn in her side” who was a daily threat to her mental sanity: the reception-

ist/secretary at my Dad’s work! Mom said if there were a work party she would make sure to get a babysitter, get all fixed up

and go with Dad. She said this woman would from across the room almost shout,”Yoo hoo, Bob!” or would just saunter

up and say, “Hi Bob, save a dance for me later.” My mother called her names in her head but always said a polite “Hello, __.”

But one time she told me (all of these are revelations to me now!) we went to the family picnic. Dad was working at Plum

Brook Research Center in Sandusky, Ohio  and we were at Marblehead beach.

She was wearing her traditional ‘Mom type’ bathing suit, a one piece with a little skirt attached to the suit and had all 3

of us in tow. My Dad was good at carrying towels, the beach bag and the cooler but usually sought out the guys who were

smoking. This time he was smoking a cigar and up walked let’s call her Marjorie, and she is flirting big-time (in Mom’s

opinion!) What is worse, Mom recounts, is that this Marjorie has a two piece bathing suit and no man nor children in

tow. Mom said she had always hoped there were a few pieces left at home to make a family for this woman and now, she

was worried!

Mom waited until people started putting out food onto the picnic tables and this is when she decided she had to make it

clear to this woman how much we all meant to Dad. She walked up to Dad, carrying my little brother on her hip,

my middle brother and I, behind, following. We three little rugrats had no clue what Mom was up to!

She had said these words to us (she thinks back, not quite sure of the words but the content is clear): “Kids, Dad needs to

see you RIGHT NOW!!” That got us out of the water and quickly moving towards our Dad! Then, (again, a pause, because

the words should be careful, not accusatory but enough to let everyone in ear’s shot know Mom meant business), “Robert,

I would like you to help set out the homemade potato salad, the lemon meringue pie you love so much and keep the kids in

line while I fix their plates.” (Someone was barbecuing hamburgers and hot dogs on some hibachi grills nearby.)

Nothing would get my Dad better focused than homemade food! My mother, a teacher, 5 days a week would have either

pot pies, frozen dinners or hot dogs and macaroni and cheese for dinner. These were her staples. I learned how to make

them at age 9 and my brothers learned how to take over at age 7 1/2 and 5. (P.S. Same with laundry, another story….)

I am sure that my mother worried over nothing since my father danced with her in the kitchen all the time. Theirs was an

expressive and open marriage for which I am thankful for.

But, that jealous bone or two: I inherited! Darn it!