Wednesday, August 21, 2013

Roller Skates

You know how you have that one drawer in your house that's the junk drawer?

I have one, but I periodically clean it out since I can't stand that I even HAVE a junk drawer...

Anyway, growing up, we were super fancy because not only did we have a junk drawer, we had a junk closet.

It wasn't on purpose, I'm sure. I think Mom ignored the closet simply out of self-preservation. She hadn't made the giant closet mess, and so it stands to reason she didn't know the extent of the chaos inside, but then again, she was Mom, and moms can sniff a mess 30 miles away.

I don't know how it happened, but into this closet (which was a linen closet) was thrown a whole bunch of hangers and roller skates. I think the theory behind putting those items in there was that the problem would magically disappear in the closet. But it was really just the lazyman's idea of tidying up.

Out of sight, out of mind.

I feel really bad for anybody who tried to get sheets out of that closet.

As it happens, those skates and hangers didn't get along, and ended up turning into a big ball of wire, laces, and wheels.

And they just sat there for who knows how long.

As I've mentioned before, Mom and Dad weren't the sort to fight in public (or ever, it would seem), but one of the few times they were in disagreement with one another, Emily, Missy and I huddled together at the top of the landing, next to the junk closet.

Mom and Dad were exchanging firm words with each other behind their mostly-closed door.

Being the concerned and sensitive children that we were, we sat at the top of the landing, trying to come up with something to distract our parents from their troubles.

A metaphorical little light blinked enthusiastically over Missy's head, her eyes glistening with wicked glee.

She told us her plan, and we liked it.


We LOVED it.

We then opened the junk closet and pulled out the hanger/skate mess.

We crept to the edge of the landing...

And threw the whole blasted mess down the stairs.





And we all giggled wildly in panic-on-the-verge-of-insanity, scrambled to untangle ourselves from each other and ran as fast as we could to find a hiding spot.

We were to be disappointed though.

Mom and Dad's conversation was too enthralling, and whichever parent it was that yelled out retreated back into the bedroom, no doubt wondering why they even had the last three children, since four was plenty, and sheesh, all they do is eat and make messes, growlly, growlly, snort, snort, fume....

Missy, Emily and I gathered again at the top of the stairs a few moments later.

The little light blinked crazily over Missy's head, and Emily and I waited in eager anticipation.

"Okay!" Missy said. "I think we should go put a picture of Jesus in their room. You know, just slide it through the open part of their door, and then they'll stop arguing!"

Looking back, I really don't think Missy was thinking it would stop anything, but, maybe, just maybe, it would ignite a firestorm of parental indignation, which she found hysterically funny.

And looking back, I don't think I thought it would solve anything either. But it still seemed like an excellent idea nonetheless.

Only Emily took exception to the new plan.

Mostly because she was the one who was supposed to approach the dragon's den and slide the picture in.

It was suicide.

And she knew it.

Missy cheerfully encouraged Emily, pushing the picture into Emily's reluctant hands. Emily took the picture and each step slowly, with a grimace on her face, knowing that her doom was impending.

Missy and I sat at the top of the stairs grinning like fools, waiting for the fallout.

And, oh boy, it was worth the wait.

(This is my favorite story, can you tell?)

I don't know about Missy, but I think I held my breath, so as to better hear what was going on downstairs.

It went something like this:

Emily: *Sneak Sneak Sneak* *Sliiiiiiiiiiideeeeeeeee*


Emily, voice tremulous: "I don't want it anymore....*squeak*"

Dragon: *momentary pause* "WELL, I DON'T WANT IT EITHER!!!!!!!"

I don't know what happened to Emily after that.

I was laughing too hard.

I seem to recall her returning whole, with the picture in tow, looking torqued.

Can't say I blame her.

I mean, we threw her to the wolves, er, dragons, after all.

I'm amazed not one of us got the snot spanked out of them.

Must have been one engrossing argument.

Or maybe the picture DID work...

1 comment:

Katscratchme said...

I honestly don't know how you talked me into going down there with that picture. And I honestly don't know why I agreed....... "I don't want it anymore"?? Where did that come from?

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