It is almost par with my invention convention first prize winner of the second grade: THE TOTALLY TUBULAR TOOTHBRUSH! Just the great idea that hooking your toothpaste to a specially designed toothbrush with a hollow center would be much cleaner and efficient. Simply squeeze the tube and the toothpaste flows through the middle of the brush up into the bristles and you are ready to brush your teeth. No worries about losing the cap and having to find BOTH the toothpaste AND the toothbrush. Everyone knows that these two things are really difficult and time consuming. Ridiculous. Hilarious. But a great memory. Hey, it's the only trophy I have ever won in my life.
Anyway...today is my sister Mckell's 22nd BiRTHdAy, and as I was thinking about her, I remembered that fateful day we shared as we had a memorable encounter with the AWESOME curling iron brush combo our family of four girls had purchased.
As the older sister, I felt it my duty to take advantage of my experienced and wiser position and "help" my younger sisters "have fun." Usually it was just an excuse to do something a much older Merry Miss (as they called us in primary) or Beehive wouldn't do...like play HOUSE.
So I told Mckell that I would make a miniature house in her room for her. When it came time to set up the bathroom, which was put in the closet, I consulted my Mom on what I could actually borrow from the bathroom to accomplish my design. None of the "good" curling irons were to be used, but I could definitely use the hand held mirror and the curling iron brush combo because the uselessness had probably been proved in the first day of procuring it.
The house was set. Okay. Let's play. I started doing Mckell's hair with that prickly curling iron. Once I started rolling toward the scalp, the curling iron gave me no option to "unfurl" so I just kept going until. . . I actually DID reach the SCALP. Just a minute. If any of you know Mckell, you will know that if judged by our hair we WOULD NOT look like sisters. She has BEAUTIFUL dark brown hair and it is THICK.
So...what do I do as she starts yelling and crying? I say what I always said in those situations, "Don't cry! (as I yank on the curling iron that is DEFINITELY stuck) Don't cry! I will get it out. Don't tell Mom." Desperate for a lesser punishment for tightening one whole side of my sister's head in a prickly, poorly invented styling tool, I yanked as HARD as I could and successfully pulled out the curling iron and an entire WAD of Mckell's hair. She had little floater hairs on top forever. They were all trying to grow back after being pulled out one inch from the root. If only I had a picture of this.
I love you Mckell. Thank you for letting me push you down the driveway in a rickety wooden wagon with plastic chairs in it for a CAR. You definitely crashed. All I remember was yelling, "Turn! Turn!" as you approached the end of the driveway.
Thank you for letting me put you in our play stroller and zoom you down the hall as fast as I could. Thank you for dressing up for my circus and actually wearing the black leotard, stripped socks, and baseball cap I put you in. You gave a great show. I wish we still had that keyboard. Then I could play "The circus comes to town" for your birthday.
Thank you for yelling every night, "Don't turn off the lights! Don't turn off the lights!" All because you saw Arachnophobia and could never sleep again.
Most of all, thank you for answering my five-year-old prayers that you would live at two months premature. Thank you for reminding me that we should all sing once-in-a-while. Happy Birthday Kell.
We had breakfast and went mini-golfing for Kell's little celebration.
Birthday Girl
AND NOW FOR THE BIGGEST PANCAKE:
It was probably a Saturday morning when I was about six or seven years old. Everyone had finished their breakfast and it was just Dad and me in the kitchen. There was still pancake batter left over, and my Dad asked me if I wanted to make a HUGE pancake with him and then share it.
I still remember thinking I was SO cool standing up there on that chair helping my Dad dump ALL the pancake batter onto the pan. We created a pancake just a little bit bigger in diameter than a pie plate, and decided to put apricot jam on one half and peanut butter on the other. My Dad gave me a fork and we shared the plate.
I don't remember what we talked about, but I do remember that I loved being with my Dad. Just us. We were in our pajamas. Talking. I remember the sounds the radiators in our kitchen made, and I remember wondering if anyone had ever really eaten a pancake that size without their Dad to help them. To a little girl it seemed GARGANTUAN.
Such a simple thing.
A cherished memory.
All the details are fuzzy, but the feeling is clear. My Dad loved me, and I knew it.
I knew it every day of my life.
And I know it now.
This is what my Dad has taught me-
Life is created by single moments.
Moments that don't always merit a graceful entry or a red curtain curtsy.
Moments that present themselves in blue jeans and tennis shoes, but mean the most in the story of our lives.
You do it because you're ready.
You help because you can.
You laugh because you need to.
You love because it's all that matters.
Happy Birthday Dad-
Even though your birthday was last week and we already celebrated-
(If I had the picture to post right here, I would post the picture of me, my sister, and my Dad all washing dishes together when I was two and my sister was four.)
