This is to make up for the blog I recently posted about my mother. Granted, she’s odd, but I have no room to talk. I’m not only clumsy, but kind of dim sometimes.
Okay, when I was about 8 years old, my mother was struggling to put my hair into a bun for a ballet recital. It took lots of hairpins and hairspray. So much hairspray that I had to stand there with my eyes closed while she kept whirling that damned can around my head. I started coughing and she said “Run.” So I did, out of the bathroom and straight into a wall. Because I didn’t bother to open my eyes.
My defense: She didn’t tell me to open my eyes. Momma gave me an order and I followed it. She should have been more explicit.
Mom’s thoughts following this incident? According to her, she just sat there, shaking her head and thinking “That’s my gifted child.”