I know that there are tons of people who spend lots of money on weekend retreats or spa vacations. I dream of them myself with the idea of me and my sister getting massages and facials and living the “the good life”. I however, can not afford the good life.
I do remember when it was free though. It usually meant that you were spending the night with Papa and Granny. I could sit at the kitchen table and ask for anything I wanted. That usually meant chocolate pudding baby food even though I was probably 10. Sometimes I could have a coke out of the bottom drawer that was in a glass bottle, but you had to time that request just right, Granny didn’t give them out as freely.
But maraschino cherries were just about an automatic yes. The excitement was real when she agreed to get out the glass jar and feed me 2 or if I was lucky 3. I ate them like a bird in a nest being fed by its mom. (Or is it dad?) Anyway…
I then had some ailment that could usually be cured with pepto bismol. I cannot decide if I liked the taste or the attention, probably a little of both.
After my belly was full, it was bathtime. I would stay in the tub until my fingers wrinkled and then holler for her to come get me out. She came quickly with a luxurious green towel and dried me off.
I was then “doctored” with mercurochrome, bismal violet, and campho phenique from head to toe. I was not satisfied until every scratch, scrape and a few freckles were red or purple.
I got to put on vanity fair pajamas and sleep until she called me for breakfast. By that time Papa, otherwise known around here as “Big Ack” was already in the kitchen waiting in his chair at the table.
The only gamble I took back then was if I laid there until Granny called my twice. After that Big Ack stepped in and I knew better than to get between him and breakfast.