Ode to Tiny Little Mother

Kurt, Tiny, and me cooking on our little propane stove whilst camping. Note the sleeping bags laid out to dry on our station wagon in the background. Those who know me well will have a good laugh. Especially my wife.

Today is my mother's 60-something birthday. My parents call each other "Tiny Little Mother" and "Tiny Little Father" depending on who is addressing whom, of course. Thanks to the prodding of my sister Jo, I will relate my favorite anecdote of my mom.

It was a crisp autumn day. School had just started, and I had made a new friend in the 2nd grade, Jeff V. He invited me over to his house, which was very close to school, and we made designs to go buy candy from the Fruit Stand, the little store across the busy road of 8th north. I've mentioned this before in my candy post a while back.

Jeff grabbed his sizable allowance from his generous and lenient mom and told her straight up that we were off to the Fruit Stand, which obviously had not been banned like it was in my family. We then went over to my house so I could report back and scrounge up some money and lie about going to play at Jeff's. When we got to my house, my mom was in the kitchen, in a particularly unapproachable mood. We stood about 20 feet away at the edge of the dining room whispering to each other about our plan.

Jeff asked quietly, "How much money do you have?"

I responded in the most silent but still audible whisper I could muster: "About 50 cents."

Just then, from the deep recesses of the kitchen came this booming voice. "WHAT'S ALL THIS ABOUT FIFTY CENTS?!?!?!"

And the trip to the Fruit Stand was foiled.

As the years went past, I had forgotten that incident, but as I spent more time with Jeff in high school, he reminded me of it, as it was his only memory of my mom.

With that, I will say that I do love my mother so, and she is one of the most kind-hearted people of all time. I look forward to her visit in 3 weeks.