About me: I'm 42 and added another gherkin to our pickle party of a family. My husband Chuck, our 9-year-old Junior, our 6-year-old Everett, our toddler and I live in a town in Connecticut I affectionately call Mulletville Lite (aka my childhood hometown). My friends call me Nutjob, and they're right. In my husband's spare time he dresses up as a Viking and chases ghosts (and I'm the nutjob?). When I'm not busy working as a graphic designer, I lie in a ball in the corner.
Friday, May 7, 2010
Friday in the grass
Ten years ago today, my grandfather's girlfriend, Aunt Helen, died. For as far back as I can remember, we spent her birthday at my grandfather's house. We'd sit on lawn chairs in his backyard in the sunshine and eat peanuts.
Helen was a large woman with enormous feet; her toenails were always painted bright red. She'd slide off her sandals and call, "Come find my ladybugs," and my brother and I would crawl on our hands and knees towards her feet to find her bright red "ladybugs" in the grass. When we found them, we'd tickle her toes and she'd laugh.
I can't believe I'm getting misty about playing with a heavy woman's feet, but life's funny like that. What about you? Do you have a special memory that's a little offbeat?