It was cold. I lay in a fetal skrunch on the front seat of our family car. I could see my breath when I poked my face through the layers of blankets. The windows inside the car were fogged, but I didn't get up to look out. I wasn't going to mess up my cuddly cocoon.
The door of the car opened with crunching sounds. It was not the hinges of that old Ford, but the snow under my father's foot steps. Pop's voice came in a low rumble as he began to drag the covers, with me in them, out into the bright, cold Rocky Mountain morning. "Come on son, I've got the fire going for you. Come be with me by the fire." I was glad he got me and when I noticed no one else around, I felt special. It was bitter cold, but my dad had made a fire before he got me out. I like my dad.
As I sat there getting toasty on the front side and frigid on my backside, I noticed another portion of my bodily function had awakened as well. "Oh no!" I thought, "I'll have to leave the fire and walk the snow into the woods!" I resolved to just hold it as long as I could. The gentle low rumble of my father's voice interrupted my squirming thoughts. "Come on, let's take a pee." Wow, my dad said the "p" word! Momma said I could not use that word. Well, we were alone so I guess that was guy talk. Better than that, he tossed me up over a shoulder and lugged me to the woods so we could decorate the snow together. That wasn't all that easy for I was seven and had lead in my bones. My mom had told me that a number of times. Dad was a small man at 5'3", but he was very strong and toting his youngest was no problem for him. It was cold but it was also cool. I like my dad.
When we came back toward the fire others had begun to stir around. My mom was doing something with pots and pans and making noises under her breath. My teenage brother and his school friend were laughing as they went over by the gurgling creek. It was iced over but there were spots that the water flowed around. They were brushing their teeth and getting the foam all over their mouths and hands and down on their wrists. They were actually having fun brushing their teeth! I didn't know that was possible.
Momma's murmurs awakened into a bark in my direction. "Go brush your teeth little one! And don't make a mess like those two owl-hoots!!" I just looked at her with my mouth agape, wondering at her capacity to douse moments of coolness with embarrassments. I had not done a thing but was already in trouble. I also thought how unfair it was that my mother could read my thoughts. Dad had somehow disappeared and the moments of menfolk, warmth and Pee-Caso in the snow had ended. Now we were on Momma-time and I was the primary male figure that HAD to mind her.
I like my dad.
The door of the car opened with crunching sounds. It was not the hinges of that old Ford, but the snow under my father's foot steps. Pop's voice came in a low rumble as he began to drag the covers, with me in them, out into the bright, cold Rocky Mountain morning. "Come on son, I've got the fire going for you. Come be with me by the fire." I was glad he got me and when I noticed no one else around, I felt special. It was bitter cold, but my dad had made a fire before he got me out. I like my dad.
As I sat there getting toasty on the front side and frigid on my backside, I noticed another portion of my bodily function had awakened as well. "Oh no!" I thought, "I'll have to leave the fire and walk the snow into the woods!" I resolved to just hold it as long as I could. The gentle low rumble of my father's voice interrupted my squirming thoughts. "Come on, let's take a pee." Wow, my dad said the "p" word! Momma said I could not use that word. Well, we were alone so I guess that was guy talk. Better than that, he tossed me up over a shoulder and lugged me to the woods so we could decorate the snow together. That wasn't all that easy for I was seven and had lead in my bones. My mom had told me that a number of times. Dad was a small man at 5'3", but he was very strong and toting his youngest was no problem for him. It was cold but it was also cool. I like my dad.
When we came back toward the fire others had begun to stir around. My mom was doing something with pots and pans and making noises under her breath. My teenage brother and his school friend were laughing as they went over by the gurgling creek. It was iced over but there were spots that the water flowed around. They were brushing their teeth and getting the foam all over their mouths and hands and down on their wrists. They were actually having fun brushing their teeth! I didn't know that was possible.
Momma's murmurs awakened into a bark in my direction. "Go brush your teeth little one! And don't make a mess like those two owl-hoots!!" I just looked at her with my mouth agape, wondering at her capacity to douse moments of coolness with embarrassments. I had not done a thing but was already in trouble. I also thought how unfair it was that my mother could read my thoughts. Dad had somehow disappeared and the moments of menfolk, warmth and Pee-Caso in the snow had ended. Now we were on Momma-time and I was the primary male figure that HAD to mind her.
I like my dad.
1 comment:
Sweet memories! Thanks for sharing!
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