3/5/10

The Products of our lives

Have you ever smelled a particular smell that takes you back in time? For me, it’s Prell shampoo. I can take one whiff of Prell and I’m 7 years old and its Saturday afternoon. Mom has washed my hair in preparation for church on Sunday. She would wash our hair and then give us a Tootsie pop. We would sit in the floor while she rolled our hair on those pink sponge curlers that stayed in all afternoon, evening and night so we would have beautiful springy curls on Sunday morning. We would watch Sky King or Roy Rogers while we counted the licks to get to the center of the Tootsie pop. There are just certain products that bring back fond memories. I remember Quaker Oats coming with a free cup and saucer. Oxydol and Fad would have either wash clothes, face towels or dish towels, depending on the size box you purchased. We lived out in the country so we had a well and septic tank. It was always Zest soap because it lathered best in hard water and Scott toilet paper because it was best to use with septic tanks. I hated helping with dishes, but I always think of it when I smell lemon fresh Joy. It reminds me of sunshine and green grass. The kitchen window was over the sink and you could see out in the yard. My brothers would be out playing while my sister and I dried and put up the dishes. I hated the dishes so much that I developed a technique to get out of doing most of my share. I became allergic to dish towels. Whenever a dish towel was placed in my hand, I developed an overwhelming urge to “go tinkle”. Once I made my escape, I would linger just as long as I could and still keep from getting in trouble. My sister would have most of the dishes done by the time I got back to the kitchen. Over the years, I have been able to use many excuses to avoid my share of dish duty at Mom’s. When I got married and had babies, our family would gather at Mom’s on Sunday after church. We’d have fried chicken, mashed potatoes, a veggie or two, chocolate cake with chocolate icing and peaches. When dinner was over, my mom, sister, sister-in-laws and myself would get up and clear the table and “red-up” the dishes to get ready to wash and dry. The minute the dishtowels came out of the drawer, I would pipe up and say “Do you all want me to go out in the yard to keep an eye on the kids?” Being aware of my “allergy”, they would just laugh, shake their head, and say “Go.” Such fond memories.

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