I thought these childhood photographs were long gone until I happened to be rooting around in Martha's home office supply cabinet and I found an envelope full of priceless snapshots. Boy, I can't wait to share some of them with you, fellow and fellowette bloggers!
Darn good advice, Mom. I was somewhere around three in this photo, and I started smartening up immediately. I was a competitive little shit and there was no way I was going to grow up more stupid that my Pop.
Mom was right on the money again, but I was way ahead of her this time. I knew I was in trouble help-wise way back when Pop took me to the first day of kindergarten and he couldn't get the school door open. He kept pushing it and pushing it until he was hyperventilating from mumbling so many dirty words. It was an itty-bitty blonde girl who saved the day when she elbowed her way past Pop and pulled the door open as easy as pie. "I feel sorry for you, kid," she said to me, while Pop was grumbling about not noticing the big sign on the door that said "PULL" because he didn't have his glasses with him . . .
Mom didn't know any Spanish, so I switched to English. I don't have the poem, dammit, but I remember the words dumb, rum, bum, and the ending line, "You're a crumb." My teacher really liked it and she gave me an "A" . . .
[Thanks to Jim Unger and his great Herman comics. And thankfully, this isn't my real Mom and Pop.]