Friday, August 29, 2008

Hammerheads




Ang, Scout, and I drove up to see our Grama Doris this month. We stopped along the way to take pictures of the places that have not changed since we were kids.

There aren't many left, but this is one of them.


Going to see Grama Doris was always the best kind of weekend, and still is. Whenever we see the oil rigs off the side of the 2-lane highway, it means we're close.


My giant, iron friends, stuck in their perpetual bow, pointing us in the direction of milkshakes, AM radio, and the river.


I drive straight, and glance to the side.


Hi guys.

Sunday, August 24, 2008

The Professional


This wasn't the first time Mary was soaked in pee and looking like a cavewoman. In my 3 AM just-got-woken-up haze, I couldn't quite make out the words coming from her face that was positioned two inches from mine. But there were a few that came across, a few that I was very familiar with.

"Mel.....please....wet the bed......please....embarrassed....please."

I still had only one eye open and looking through the peephole that was made between my sisters armpit and the pillow, I could see the still, sleeping figure in her bed across the room that was Mary's best friend, Sarah S.

Sarah S, who was pretty and cool and listened to George Michael and had a perm.
Sarah S who was not a bed wetter.
Sarah S who could possible end her friendship with my sister when she wakes up to find that Mary has peed all over the bed, the sheets, the blankets, herself, and yes, Sarah S.

I was the resident bed wetter of my family. It defined me from the ages of 2 to 9 (okay, 11). They called me "Smelly Melly"; they still do, but have shortened it to a simple "Smell."

Mary was the clean one. I don't know how else to put it. She was so clean. All the time. The only unclean part of her life was the side of her room that was inhabited by me.

I knew what I had to do.

The sheets were wet and cold. As I shifted from left to right and back to left trying to find the driest position, I began to have an odd sense of self worth. It was as if I were some kind of professional who had been called in. Like when the government needs to infiltrate a big bad drug cartel so they cut a deal with the street smart kid who got locked up because of his affinity for cocaine. The outcast was becoming the hero.

I slept soundly that night, knowing that when I woke up in the morning my sister would have a new found love and admiration for me, and my family would finally see the value of my undersized bladder.

I couldn't wait for the sun to burst through our horizontal blinds and for my new life to begin.

"Oh..... my..... god!!!!! Ugh no way! What are you doing here?!?!"

Ok, this may not go as I had hoped.

"Mary, your sister peed everywhere!"

I turned towards Mary, awaiting her well thought out response/defense of me.

And that's when I saw it.

She was embarrassed. It didn't matter that I had slept in her pee all night and sacrificed my pride and comfort. It didn't matter that i had saved her from rumors of a sleep-over-gone-wrong the next day at school. The only thing that mattered was that her little sister had peed all over her best friend, and that was mortifying.

She said the only thing she could.

"Geez Melanie, that's really gross. It's, like, so gross. Sorry, Sarah, she can't help it. She does it, like, every night."

I stared at her for a moment then shrugged my shoulders.

And back to outcast.