Or How We Got Rid of Great Aunt Gertrude
This post came out of a comment on Oscar-Schmoshcar, by Marissa of Tucker the Wunderkind: that readers would love to see a pic of me in white gloves. Oddly enough the house just happens to be in complete uproar because we’re having work done. Only an hour ago I found a box of paleolithic photos and thought: Huh. So that’s where I hid them.
I’m a year older in this photo, but it does rather sum it up. This is what my great-aunt Gertrude expected to see when she held court. Little gentlemen and a lady. Oh I’m wearing gloves all right. That’s why my hands are behind my back.
Okay okay, I found a photo in which my mother made the gloves show…backstory beneath photo.
Here’s the story: seemed easier to repeat it than link to it and tell you “read #7 if you want to know what the heck we’re talking about”.
When I was three, my older brothers draped their large, sleepy, king snake over my neck and shoulders, and convinced me I needed to go into the house to show Mom my new mink stole. (Where my great-aunt Gertrude was holding my mother hostage under the auspices of a ‘visit’.) . I had already been forced out of dungarees and a T-shirt for GAG’s visit, and was subsequently re-wallpapered with crinoline, lace socks, mary janes, and white gloves.
Even at three, I understood how horrified GAG would be, and how happy it would make my mother to get out of yet another lecture on proper house keeping. I cheerfully skipped into the house: Morton curling his tail under my left arm and wrapping his neck around my right wrist.
“Look at my new mink stole!” I said, waving his head at great-aunt Gertrude.
Morton obliged by waking up and flicking his tongue out at her curiously. GAG leapt up onto the Davenport in her high heels, screaming. I pretended to be confused. My mother shooed me outside: my brothers greeted me with lifted eyebrows, and I smiled big in answer. Shortly after, we heard the engine of great-aunt Gertrude’s Pontiac turn over. My mother scolded me half-heartedly: what was I thinking, bringing Morton into the house? I could have given aunt Gertrude a heart attack!
To punish us, my mother took us all out for ice cream.