Say
what you will about Sally, she can add.
Maybe
a bit of background . . .
It
was Sally’s birthday.
Sixteen.
For
one month of the year, we are the same age. Irish twins, people call us.
Whatever
that means.
I
think it has something to do with annoying because for that one month, Sally
never lets up that we are the same age.
Sigh.
On
this particular day, she was clutching the crisp new fifty-dollar bill that Cousin
Ruth had given her.
In
a bright, pink ‘puppy-wishing-you-a-yappy-birthday’ card.
Apparently,
the girl was rich.
What
was more important, she had enough funds for the new video game she had been
begging mom for for the past five months.
Remember
the sliding-off-the-roof virtual reality debacle of July?
Yeah,
that game.
Back
to Sally . . .
“I’m
going shopping!” She disappeared into the hall.
Now
normally, I would just let her go. It is Sally and one has to be cautious in
her presence. But, for some reason, I followed her.
She
dashed down the stairs and into the kitchen.
There
is a large hutch in our kitchen. Old. Wooden. Belonged to some ancestor.
And
atop this hutch sits Sally’s treasure box. Where she keeps all her valuables.
Which,
mostly were only valuable to her.
It
was here that I found her.
Clinging
to the base as she scaled the side.
“Sally!
Use a chair!”
My
plea fell on deaf ears.
“Takes
too long!” Sally grunted as she hitched herself higher. “I’m almost there!”
True.
Her hand was within touching distance of her treasure chest.
It
was also within touching distance of something else entirely.
Our
sleeping cats.
Oh
yeah. We got two cats. Remind me to tell you about that. Another red-letter day
in our household.
Back
to my story . . .
And
Mom’s antique serving platter. The one that matched the dinner set bequeathed
her by a well-meaning, but sadly ignorant grandmother.
I
know you can see this just as clearly as I can, but allow me to reiterate: Tall
hutch. Climbing girl. Sleeping cats.
Dinner
platter.
All
within the same sphere.
Oy.
Things
happened pretty fast.
“Got
it!” Sally cried, just as she lost her tenuous grip on the edge of the hutch.
And her reaching fingers grabbed the tail of one of the cats as she felt
herself going.
Picture
it.
Girl
falling.
Cat
reacting.
Things
not conducive to dropping raining down in a cascade.
And
Mom arriving in her patented what-did-I-just-miss technique.
She
gaped at the mess.
And
the girl sitting in the midst of it.
At
first, she failed to realize the significance of what she was seeing. “It looks
as though Godzilla has just been through here!” she said. Then she saw the
platter. The formerly pristine in-one-piece platter.
No
longer pristine.
Or
in one piece.
I
know you’ve heard about how angry hornets can get.
Well,
they learned from Mom.
Her
face got red. Her mouth opened.
Silently,
Sally handed her the fifty-dollar bill. And her treasure box.
Mom
just stared at the money in her hand. Then her eyes narrowed. “Let’s go
shopping!” she said unexpectedly.
Both
Sally and I stared at her.
“What
are we buying?” I asked. "Another platter?"
Mom shook her head, her eyes still on Sally. “Nope. Something we could really use. Chains.”
All
righty then.
x
Each month, Karen of Baking in a Tornado issues a challenge--and a few words--to each of her followers/friends.
This month, my words: chains ~ sleeping cats ~ Godzilla ~ hornet ~ $75
came via Karen from my friend at Cognitive Script!
This month, my words: chains ~ sleeping cats ~ Godzilla ~ hornet ~ $75
came via Karen from my friend at Cognitive Script!
Links to the other “Use Your Words” posts:
