Pacific Northwest Gardening: Apropos of Nothing v.6, 1 by

wrote:
Indeed! I think the picture formethed by the end of that first stanza for me. Does she also layeth on the guilt? I would feel sorry for her if I weren't getting so choked up.

Here is something to distract you from this heart-wrenching attempt at poetry. Consider this my Christmas letter bragging about my kid:

Senior Ball. A Play in One Act.
By Pixydish

Here is my adorable son, Andrew, age 17, with his equally adorable first girlfriend, Trish. They are dressed up in costumes which I made for them in 2 hours or less with materials I already had on hand. They are going to Senior Ball, a fun dance their school has every year for seniors only. It is always a costume party with a theme. This year's theme was Peter Pan, which I am sure you already could tell. Trish is dressed up as 'fairy dust'. Here is how it came to pass:

Andrew (two hours before the ball): Mom, I need a Peter Pan costume. I'm going to Goodwill to see what they have. I need a green tunic.

Me: Are you crazy? You can't be sure they will have a Peter Pan costume! You don't just go down to Goodwill expecting to find a specialty item like that. Let's see what fabric is available here at home. (scurrying around, poking into closets, etc.) How about if I use this old Army Blanket I felt compelled to buy for no good reason?

Andrew: Great!

Me: Plus, it will be warm. Stand still and hold this fabric up while I measure and cut. Don't move.

Time passes.....sounds of sewing machine, fabric being cut, ..1 hour later:

Me: Try this on! We need a belt and your little wooden sword from when you were 4. You can wear these black exercise tights underneath. Now let me measure you for a hat. I have a great feather stuck in a pot of cactus in the greenhouse. Lose my feather and you'll be sorry.

Andrew: Cool! This is great! Thanks, mom!

Enter, Trish, stage right,, dressed in ordinary clothes.

Me: Trish! Where is your costume?

Trish: I don't have one. I was thinking I could go to Goodwill and find something.

Me: Don't be insane! What kind of costume are you looking for?

Trish: I don't know.. something in gold lame. (sorry, don't have an accent on my keyboard - pronounce this 'gold lamay')

Me: Hmmm... I'm sure I have a gold lame dress up in the attic. Plus, I know exactly where it is and it will probably fit you. Let me check

Trish: Oh that's funny! I'm sure I'll find something at Goodwill I can use.

Exit, stage left. Find dress in attic in old dressup trunk belonging to daughter. Enter, stage left, holding said dress. It is torn at the hem, and ripped up the side. This is a hand made dress with hand sewn rhinestones all over the front.

Trish: You're kidding! You really have a gold dress? And it has rhinestones that sparkle??

Me: I'm not kidding. I'm a mother. It is my job to provide for even unreasonable requests less than one hour before the clock strikes the appointed time. Try this on. Don't worry about the rip and the hem. I can fix all that.

Trish: (Looking a little wary, unsure, not wanting to hurt my feelings) I don't know, I'll be surprised if it fits.

Me: Don't be ridiculous. You're going to go to the ball with my son in street clothes? I think not. Go try it on.

Trish: (Looking at Andrew questioningly) well, okay.

Trish: (coming out of the bathroom) I don't believe it! It fits perfectly!

Me: What did I tell you. Now how about we cut it off here, slit the seam up the other side, take the sleeve inserts out leaving only the netting, then we'll remove the band from the collar that makes you look like a transvestite priest.

Trish: Amazing! I'll do whatever you say!

(Taking costume to sewing machine: hurriedly cuts, sews, pins)

Me: Voila! Try this on.

Trish: (with costume on) OH my Go*! I look totally hot!

Me: A mother's work is never done. Be home before 1:00AM. Farewell!




If Summerkid posts any more stanzas to that poem, I will be forced to embellish this tale further and might even have to lie a little. I am not making this up.