W
Written: in memory of the unending love and guidance my parents gave to me. I remember it all………………
I grew up in a sweet, small, white Cape Cod house. It stood in a development of houses just like it. The houses were so small that families were forced to get along………..well, that’s what I always thought. I found my neighbors to be happy and contented people.
The houses were well built. The walls weren’t paper thin………….but there were no secrets. If my parents argued? They must have done it through sign language. I never heard raised voices.
But, I heard enough.
My parents spent many hours sitting in their cozy kitchen. The calico curtains would be drawn against the darkness. The tea kettle whistled and grew quiet and then whistled again. Tins of cookies popped open. Now and then, I’d hear a can of beer hiss as the tab was pulled.
My parents talked about anything and everything. I listened from my little bed in a near by room. I learned a lot and it was also the sound of their voices that lulled me sleep on many a night.
My father was giving Mommy a lesson one night……….she had stopped working to watch three kids………..he was still out in the work place every day except Sunday.
“So, I said to my boss………well, I was left to make that decision. And, I did my best. Remember…………like my father taught me and his father before him……….sometimes it’s easier to ask for forgiveness than it is to ask for permission.” he said.
“Oh, Ellie. Some rules are rules because they make absolute sense. Some rules are in place……..and they’re just stupid. I only follow rules when they make sense to me. It’s worked out so far because I’m smarter than the average bear.” he finished.
I liked bears. Especially, The Three Bears. So, I nodded my head in agreement and fell asleep.
I wasn’t supposed to leave my bed without my parent’s permission. That rule made no sense to be. So, like any smart bear I crawled out of my bed while my parents snored in the big bed. I’d go to the bathroom and get myself a drink when I was thirsty. I was pretty little. But, I knew the hot from the cold. I knew how to use a Dixie Cup. I’d get a drink and go back to bed. I didn’t disturb tired sleeping parents.
I would get out of bed in the early hours of the morning. I’d stand on tiptoe and unlock the bolts of the front door. I’d grab the newspaper and look at the funny page while everyone else still had pillows pulled over their heads.
I’d lock the door back up and go back to bed safe in the knowledge that the funnies were still funny.
“Why is the newspaper all over the floor, Little Girl? You are supposed to stay in your bed until Mommy or I get you up in the morning.” my Daddy said. “At least you had sense enough to close the door again and lock it.”
“The stay in bed until you’re awake rule makes no sense to me, Daddy. I’m sorry. But, that’s just the way it is. It’s easier to ask for forgiveness than it is to ask for permission when rules are just plain stupid.” I replied.
“I’m sorry, Daddy. I’m sorry that your rule is so stupid.” I said.
His eyes flew open wide when he heard his own words coming back at him. He narrowed his eyes at me. He thought about it for a full minute. I awaited the parental commotion that was surely coming my way.
Instead, he threw back his head and roared with laughter.
“Who’s Daddy’s girl? Come and give me a kiss.” he said as he picked me up by my arm pits and spun me around the little living room.
“Oh. Dear. God.” my mother said from the hallway.
Christmas was coming. The snow fell and fell and fell. The temperatures weren’t all that cold yet. The snow was perfect for snowmen. The snow was especially perfect for igloo making.
My older brother made a castle out of snow with his friends. It had many rooms. And tunnels. Electric cords ran in lamps. Board games were played in there. Tours were given. Many a mother and father crawled around on their hands and knees. For all I knew the local newspaper came out to take photographs.
My brother announced a sleep out. He told my parents over dinner………..four of his friends had invited him to come with his sleeping bag and pillow. They were spending the night in the snow castle. Penny candy. Monopoly. 6 am trip to Mister Donuts for hot chocolate and jelly crullers.
My parents didn’t blink an eye.
“Sounds like a grand adventure, son.” my father said.
“Wear your long johns. And, a knitted hat when you sleep. I will not have you getting pneumonia and ruining Christmas.” my mother said.
My brother was four years older than I was. I knew he had many freedoms because of his age. Because…………..he was a boy.
I might only be six years old………………but, this bugged me to no end.
I was a little girl that was smarter than your average bear.
I decided to have my own sleep out.
I was the proud owner of a “Doll House”. I am not talking about a miniature house with tiny people and plastic furniture. My Doll House was an 8X10 annex to the garage on Columbus Street. It had originally contained my father’s tools and dozens of cans of paint.
My collection of dolls, cribs and little girl kitchen equipment had taken over my mother’s house. I refused to play in the warm basement because my brother had convinced me that a dragon lived in the furnace.
He had even opened the little door to the furnace and showed me the flames.
I might like The Three Bears. I did not like dragons.
So, I took over my father’s workshop. My mother hung curtains at the windows. My father built me shelving and cupboards to keep my little plastic dishes in. My dolls had their own closet full of clothing.
The Doll House had lighting. It had no heat. It even had a comfy sofa at the end of the room to cut it off from the rest of the garage.
My dolls were my friends when there were no little girls to play with. I took good care of my friends.
My brother had just gotten permission to sleep in a house of snow. In December. A house of snow that could come crashing down on his head at any moment. These boys weren’t exactly engineers.
“I’m sleeping out in my Doll House with my babies.” I announced. “We’re going to have a party. There will be Twinkies. And, soda. I will pee in the bushes in case you lock the door after dark. And, then………….at 6 am I am taking my Barbie wallet and I’m going to take my stroller with two babies…………..down to Mister Donuts. I’m going to buy hot chocolate and a jelly cruller.” I told my family.
My brother rolled his eyes at the ceiling. My mother swallowed her hot coffee too quickly.
My father bellowed “You will not! I am telling you right now, Little Girl. This is not going to happen. You will not sleep all alone in a cold garage surrounded by your dolls. You will not walk down to that donut shop in the dark to buy yourself hot chocolate and a jelly cruller. Look me in the eye! I am forbidding this!”
His face was red and he was pretty loud.
“Is this a rule, Daddy? ” I asked.
“Yes, this is my rule. It is my COMMAND!” he yelled over a forkful of mashed potatoes.
Command! My daddy used to be a drill sergeant in the Marines.
“I will consider this rule of yours. But, HE gets to sleep in a pile of snow as long as he keeps a hat on his head. I want to sleep in my Doll House with a locked door. I’m thinking your rules are different for boys than girls. I’ll think about it but I think your rule makes absolutely no sense. Rules are made to be broken.” I said keeping my cool.
“GO TO YOUR ROOM!” my Daddy said at the top of his lungs.
I think the neighbors probably heard it.
I went to my room and kept my ear to the wall.
“Well, Ralph……..” my mother started. “Yup, she’s your little girl after all. She listens to every word you say…………..even when you don’t know she’s listening. One rule for boys. One rule for girls. Give it up. She’s got you.”
My father did a little sputtering.
“Oh, you’re not going to be put out by this. You’re going to go off to work. I’m the one that has to watch the doors like a guard dog! She knows how to unlock your deadbolts. She is determined to have a sleep out with her dolls. So, I’ll tell you what. You go and get the kerosene heater. You get it going in the garage. Because, I’m obviously sleeping in a cold garage tonight with a bunch…………..of …………….freaking…………………dolls!” my mother yelled in his general direction.
Dishes hit the sink.
My father went down to the basement to find his kerosene heater.
My brother went off to sleep like an Eskimo. My father took his lunch pail to work. My mother and I got cozy in the Doll House.
We ate Twinkies. We drank soda. Mom put her foot down when it came to peeing in the bushes like the boys do. She even made me brush my teeth.
We snuggled into the couch bundled up with a half a dozen blankets. My Doll House Christmas tree twinkled in the corner. The dolls were all tucked up into their bunk beds.
“Do you want to go inside, Little Girl? We can sleep on the living room floor and watch movies all night.” my mother tried to entice me away from the frosty garage.
“No, we don’t need movies.” I told my mother. And, then I told her a long story about The Three Bears and Goldilocks ordering pizza and having a pajama party in a house in the trunk of a tree. She asked questions. I answered and came up with a bedtime garage story that lasted a good half an hour.
My mother fell asleep. She wasn’t a snorer. She was a puffer. It sort of sounded like a drop of cold water hitting a hot frying pan. She puffed and I fell asleep with her.
My father got home from work early in the morning. The garage door opening woke us up.
“Go fix your hair, girls. We’re walking down to Mister Donuts.” my father said in greeting.
“Get your Barbie wallet, Little Girl. You’re paying.” he added.
The three of us walked through the early frosty morning pushing a carriage full of dolls wearing knitted sweaters and caps. We bumped into a bunch of red faced, drippy nosed boys that had spent the night in an igloo.
We pretended not to know them.
My father asked my mother “So, how was your night with the dolls?” as we walked the carriage home.
“Well………thank goodness for kerosene heaters. Great invention.” my mother replied.
“It was one of the best nights of my life.” she added.
“Our little girl is quite the storyteller.”
growinguponcolumbusstreet 