As we go into the store, I tell her “Mother, we’re not bringing in one more thing that we have to dust or pack.” This – this right here – is what she comes out of the store with.
Then we go to another store – an antique store – and as we leisurely stroll through, taking our time because the realtors are showing the house – Mother sidles up next to me and says, “I read this book when I was a little girl.”
Then she opens the front cover, shows me the inscription, and says, “And Miss Mary Lou played the piano when your daddy and I got married.”
I bought the book.
But you knew I would.
On the way home:
Mother: Miss Mary Lou didn’t play the traditional wedding music, and I thought that was terrible.
Me: Mother, you and daddy got married in the jailhouse. What did you expect?
[For the record: My grandadddy/Mother’s daddy was the Sheriff, and back in the day, the Sheriff’s family lived in the jail, so Mother and Daddy got married at home . . . in the living room . . . that just happened to be in the jail. The sheriff’s wife cooked and cleaned for the prisoners. The Sheriff got paid. His wife didn’t.]
[Another note: Miss Mary Lou played Irving Berlin’s “Always” at the wedding. I knew that part before this outing, and it may not be considered traditional wedding music, but it’s still one of my favorite songs of all time.]