And the answer is, “YES! PLEASE!”

A Most Favorite Memory

Growing up in a large five generation family, I was privy to some very rare and interesting moments. This one happened during a visit to my maternal grandparents one Summer.

When I was about 14 or 15 we were visiting my mother’s parents.  My mother and my grandmother began arguing and it got rather loud.  My grandfather had had enough and said, “Antoinette!  Go to your room.  Esther!  You too.  You cannot come out until you can get along.”

As a child, this is something you never think about.  Who disciplines your parents?  Their parents, of course.

As we children started to giggle we got “the look” from my father and were told to, “Go outside.” Trying to stifle our laughter until we could get outside we ran for the door. We then proceeded to laugh and talk about watching these two grown women being sent to their room.  As children, it is a rare thing to see adults sent to their room. It is a life altering realization that adults also must suffer the consequences of their choices.

Happy Happy

One day my teenage niece got frustrated with her father (my brother) and sternly told him to go to his room. My brother’s response? He happily skipped down the hallway singing, “I get to go to my roo-oom.  I get to go to my roo-oom.”

My niece was not very happy that he was so glad to go.

The Vacuum Incident

This is why I am telling these stories. It was carpet cleaning day, and I moved all the furniture out of the family room so that I could clean the carpet. This is not a simple job since we have several pieces of heavy furniture and it took me about 30 minutes of serious effort.

I went to the closet to get the carpet cleaner only to realized that it was not there.  My sister had borrowed it and not returned it.  We got hold of my sister and she arranged for us to pick it up. My brother-in-law was home, so he left it on the driveway for us.

We got the vacuum back home only to find out it was absolutely filthy. Dog hair and mud had caked inside the vacuum head and dried. It took me 20 minutes and quite a bit of grumbling to clean it enough that I could use it.

Then I discovered that they had used most of the soap and I didn’t have enough soap to clean the carpet. I had to go to the store and purchase more.

By the time I got back home I was more than a little frustrated. I was angry.  I was venting to my parents and made the comment that I was now starting two hours later than I had planned. My energy levels were starting to run low and I was feeling tired and stressed.

My mother (who can no longer walk) told me that she would clean the carpet. I looked at her and said, “Not on your life.” Her shoulders would not handle pushing the vacuum. She started telling me that she would do the carpet a little bit at a time. I put my foot down and we began a serious “discussion” on why my mother would not be cleaning the carpet.

This is where my father stepped in. Getting our attention, he sternly asked if we wanted to go to our room. My mother immediately began to chuckle and then proceeded to laugh so hard that she almost fell out of her jazzy chair. I just smiled, looked at my dad and said, “Yes, as a matter of fact I do.”

After spending two hours cleaning the carpet I went directly to my room. I enjoyed a quiet hour relaxing in my recliner. My daddy can send me to my room any time he wants.