What Was I Thinking? Vol. 7
Time to show off!
My mother transformed her kitchen into a Southwestern oasis when I was very young. If she hadn’t realized it before, she would soon discover that when people find out you have a liking for something they give you a lot of it. She began receiving Native American dolls, Native American figurines, Native American(ish) pottery, etc. almost immediately.
One summer someone gave her a cactus akin to the one here:
Just imagine it as being about 3 feet tall, or reaching about stomach level of my eleven-year-old self. Also imagine it being placed at the end of the center island which you had to go around to get out of the kitchen.
During a gathering of her friends at the kitchen table, my mom explained that I was just back from arts camp and that I had made art things while there.
Auntie M: You did? Well what did you make?
Little Hapabukbuk: I’ll show you!!
Running with all the excitement a little girl possesses, I skidded around the island, slipped in the water my father dripped on the floor five minutes earlier and flew left arm first through the limbs of the cactus. We landed on the floor with a thud and then it was silent.
Until I heard the giggling. Slowly it came back to me. Running, slipping, sitting with my arm stuck in a cactus and then the giggling. All of them!
Eventually mom came over to make sure I was all right. She quickly broke off the leaves of the aloe plant in the window and dressed the huge scratches now adorning my arm, but I’m not sure I’ll ever forgive her for laughing first. I may not have any physical scars but I'm still crying on the inside.
My mother transformed her kitchen into a Southwestern oasis when I was very young. If she hadn’t realized it before, she would soon discover that when people find out you have a liking for something they give you a lot of it. She began receiving Native American dolls, Native American figurines, Native American(ish) pottery, etc. almost immediately.
One summer someone gave her a cactus akin to the one here:
Just imagine it as being about 3 feet tall, or reaching about stomach level of my eleven-year-old self. Also imagine it being placed at the end of the center island which you had to go around to get out of the kitchen.
During a gathering of her friends at the kitchen table, my mom explained that I was just back from arts camp and that I had made art things while there.
Auntie M: You did? Well what did you make?
Little Hapabukbuk: I’ll show you!!
Running with all the excitement a little girl possesses, I skidded around the island, slipped in the water my father dripped on the floor five minutes earlier and flew left arm first through the limbs of the cactus. We landed on the floor with a thud and then it was silent.
Until I heard the giggling. Slowly it came back to me. Running, slipping, sitting with my arm stuck in a cactus and then the giggling. All of them!
Eventually mom came over to make sure I was all right. She quickly broke off the leaves of the aloe plant in the window and dressed the huge scratches now adorning my arm, but I’m not sure I’ll ever forgive her for laughing first. I may not have any physical scars but I'm still crying on the inside.
posted by hapabukbuk at
11:38 PM
3 Comments:
My mom laughed at me when I told her about my Current Event in 4th grade. Who knew Peace Corps wasn't pronounced phonetically?
By
wonderturtle, At
11:47 AM
The scarring of a mother's laughter is like nothing else.
You know...up until 2 minutes ago, I thought there were two ways to pronounce Corps.
Even so much as a giggle and we are so over.
By
hapabukbuk, At
12:35 PM
so i'm totally going to be a horrible mother and go to hell (not that i think it exists). I laughed, out loud, through this entire story.
still love you though hapa!
-snix
By
Anonymous, At
5:50 PM
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