Blowing in the wind
Daddy had a couple of habits that could only be tagged as an ‘I-don’t-care-what-you-think’ attitude. They were both not what sophisticated men would do, my mother repeatedly said, but it gave me moments of such immense glee that I have to mention it here.
Daddy loved to sing choruses. Now there’s nothing wrong with that, but loudly while walking down the street…well that’s something else, yes? Well, for my mother it was a source of extreme embarrassment. In all fairness to her, I can well imagine how she felt. However as a little girl, I failed to understand her problem with it because I would be giggling while she scowled. And to add to her woe, I’d join Daddy in the singing. For one, I enjoyed the attention we were attracting as passers-by would turn to look at us, and the other reason being to see Mummy’s face….priceless! She’d walk a few paces behind, in a manner of disowning us, I suppose. Come to think of it I guess we needed to be disowned right then..!!! Now if you are already rolling your eyes, wait till you hear this.
Daddy had always had a delicate stomach, so flatulence was a constant complaint. Mummy believed one had to be very discreet about these things, but not Daddy. If he had to let it out he had to let it out. Oh! He did defer to office and Mess etiquette, but at home or if he was walking…….there was no stopping him.
“Stop polluting the atmosphere,” Mummy would growl. To which his rear would answer loud and clear, while he gave a crooked smile. And I would be in splits. One day out of sheer curiosity, I asked him why he did this. And this is what he told me….
“You know there was a man who died because he wouldn’t let out the wind in his bowels. So his widow got this written on his gravestone, ‘Wherever you may be, Let your wind go free, For that has caused the death of me.’ So do you want me to have that on my gravestone?”
I couldn’t answer because I was laughing so hard. ( thank god Mummy’s influence has prevailed on us in this area….no blowing in the wind for us!! Hahaha)
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I think, I write. I see, I write. I remember, I write. I read something, I hear something, I write. I am happy, sad, angry, indifferent, I write...like the babbling brook I flow on and on...like the leaden cloud I pour out my thoughts.
LOL!! Oh gosh..This is a classic!
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