Who is the Savvy Scribe?

My photo
I am a single mom, a full time student, working to make a better life for my daughter and myself. I am sarcastic and opinionated and refuse to sensor myself. I am a liberal, gun owner, and a sports fanatic.

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Kids Say. . .

Short story today. True story, inspired by Pretty All True's post today about something mouthy her youngest daughter said. Go read it here so you get a little back ground. Browse around because this woman is hysterical; but don't forget to come back.

My mom was always very open about body parts. My parents read some statistic (back in the 80's) that children who knew the proper names for all their privates were less likely to be molested. So they did their damndest to be very proper and direct with all things body/sex/etc. I never was molested so God bless them, it must have worked.
Anyway.
On summer when I was no more than 5 years old we were down in Sacramento visiting my mom's family.  She has 6 brothers and sisters and I  have many cousins.

We're all very close and we love each other very much but I would bet that every single one of us is certifiably crazy.
And also, my mom's side of my family pride ourselves on being bratty. We torment and tease, pinch and poke and have no mercy. Which is why this story is still told every single time the family gets together "en-masse."
This story will be the one told at my funeral to make everyone laugh.
So I'm around 5, maybe younger, no one seems to remember, and it's summer in Sacramento--hot, humid and miserable. My mother's youngest sister is in her 20's and she is so much fun.
She's beautiful--I know this even at 5 and already I want to be as slim and glamorous as she is. Have fun boyfriends and take my nieces roller-skating.
She is wearing daisy-dukes and a lose, strappy tank top. We're just arriving and in the boisterous celebration of seeing loved ones that you only see once or twice a year my aunt tosses me up in the air over her head. As I'm flying through the air I look down at her and ask, "Aunt. T? Why don't you have any breasts?"

Every. Time.

The story is told every time the family gets together. Hell, I even tell the story.

3 comments:

  1. Oh, this is a very good story.

    Love it!

    And I am so glad I didn't have to wait until your funeral to hear it.

    Silly you.

    Love this story!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Thanks! And I am rather silly. Just not on a regular enough basis to be a stand-up comedienne. But I make people laugh hysterically on a regular basis.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Not sure wha't funnier, the "why don't you have any breast?" comment, or the statistic about kids knowing the real name for body parts are less likely to be molested. Come to think of it....my parents always called our body parts by their real name, and we were never molested...so maybe there is something to that.

    ReplyDelete