Friday, October 1, 2010

You're a good man Charlie Brown.

          When I was about four years old I was a happy afternoon student at Cabbage Hill Nursery Hill. One day after my brother had been sent off to school, my mother had to run some sort of errand, leaving me with my father for the morning. I remember going into the kitchen and asking my dad what I would be wearing to school that day. Now, to explain another of my mother's idiosyncrasies, we kept clothing in the dishwasher. My mother does not believe in dishwashers. Yes, you read that correctly, she actually believes they do not get things "clean enough" and that washing 30 dishes after company is really no big deal compared to 300 at the restaurant. She takes such an active offense to dishwashers that she has actually since removed the one in our kitchen. At this point though, she used it to hold our underwear, undershirts, socks, etc. The bulk of our daily wear was actually kept in the bedrooms but it occurs to me that my dad probably did not know this fact, and is the possible reason he did not leave the kitchen all morning.

          When I asked what I would be wearing to school that day, Dad responded: "I don't know. Pick something out." I went to my room and decided that I would wear my light blue Snoopy sweatsuit. It featured Snoopy and Woodstock and it was my favorite. I brought my Snoopy sweatsuit out to the kitchen, knowing I had made a most excellent choice. I held it out to my dad proudly. "You can dress yourself. You're a big girl".

          Dress myself?! I have never dressed myself! Mom always dresses me! It was clear though that I was in fact a big girl and that my dad was going to sit there with his coffee reading his paper. I had best try. I remember distinctly that a fair amount of wriggling and writhing on the floor was necessary to get my sweatpants on. In between pleading glances up to my dad, still reading the paper, eventually success was mine. When we were leaving and my dad neglected to get out the hairbrush I considered myself lucky. I dreaded the daily procedure when my mom would flip my head over and go at the knots with the kind of swiftness she used to put out grease fires (yes, I've seen it happen a couple of times).

          When I arrived at school that afternoon, I noticed that everyone looked nice- nicer than usual. Julie was wearing a headband and Allegra was wearing a dress. Sitting in our circle, even the boys were primping their bowties. That was when Miss Ginny announced "Why does everyone look so nice today? It's picture day!"

          My nursery school "graduation" picture remains one of the more disheveled of my photographic history.

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