When I was younger, my Mom (aka Grammy) decided to try out a new casserole dish. I don't remember what is was called but it had ham, cheese, potatoes and the like in it. Like most kids, my siblings and were not so keen about trying new foods, kinda like my own kids. We bitched and moaned about having to eat this new food. We faked gagged, we whined, cried and did all the other things kids do. Mom repeated over and over that we were going to eat it and like it. It was not toxic. It contained all the foods we liked. We best just shut up, eat it, enjoy it and be glad that we had food on our plate.
We each tried a bite and about gagged. We told her it was awful, it's gross, Mom, you are killing us. She told us to shut up and keep eating! (We've all been there as Mom's. I know I have.) About 20 minutes later Mom finally got her plate of dinner and sat at the table. She took one bite and immediately started apologizing to us for making us eat the meal. She had made a mistake with one of the ingredients and ended up over salting the dish...a ton. It was truly inedible.
We've never let her hear the end of it. It is a story we bring up a few times each year. Especially now that we are adults. Our kids will remember it because they will hear the story through the years. We also share the story of "sea breeze", A's family talks about how they jumped over the railing from the second floor to cushions down below when her parents were gone, or the time Uncle B tossed the dog out the second story window to see if she could fly like Under Dog. We all have these stories and our kids will have them too. It's our own family folklore. Twenty years from now our kids will gather round the dinner table and one of them will say "remember the time Mom ran over George Wallace!"
It started with a trip to the grocery store. Pete vacummed the house and earned four quarters. I had a
few items to get for our family birthday party later in the day so the girls rounded up three dollars in quarters to buy a special treat for themselves and off we went. The girls selected a bag of cheese puffs with their money (oh how excited they were) and we returned home. As I was coming up the driveway we spotted Zeus and George playing in the front yard. They were happy as could be because it was raining out and they were rolling and wresting in the mud and dirt. As I got closer to the house, I slowed down to enter the garage. I was barely moving. The dogs typically will come around the back of the car and "shadow us" pulling into the garage. I'm not sure what happened next but I heard a lot of yelping from George Wallace and felt the thump of running over a small animal. That was George Wallace!
George took off running around the back of the house, through his doggie door and was trying to get into the house at the back door. I parked the car, left the girls still buckled in and dashed off after George. I picked him up in a towel and started banging on the door to be let it. As I looked back in the yard, Pete was standing about twenty yards away watching me and George. I assured her that Geroge was fine and to go get Cuppie out of her car seat. Once in the house, I handed George off to A who was in the bathroom getting ready. I told her that George got hit by a car in the driveway. She looked at me puzzled and said what. I replied with "I RAN OVER THE DOG!"
I left A to tend to George and went to get the girls out of the car. Thankfully I don't think Cuppie really understood what had happened and Pete believed me when I told her George was ok. Plus, they had this bag of cheese puffs they really wanted for lunch. A cleaned up George and we assessed his injuries. He was walking ok, had some swelling and a nice bit of road rash on his upper leg. He was quite shook up but otherwise ok. We checked with the vet and was told what to do for him. Turns out he is a pretty tough little dog. Besides being banged up a bit, he is back to his normal self. Yesterday he started pestering the cat again and he is walking with only a small limp. I'm about back to normal too. I spent most of Sunday muttering to A that I ran over our dog.
The main reason I wanted to document this story is so in twenty years when they start retelling it I'm sure they will try to "embelish" it. I can quietly point to the entry and say no kids, that's not what happened. Mom wasn't driving 50 miles an hour and she wasn't trying to run over George. I know this story will live on...mostly because when I was leaving the house today to take Pete to school, A yelled out " Have a good day honey, and don't run over the dog!"