BunnyMommy - October 12, 2004
Cleaning supplies remind me of my mother, TheBunnyMommy. I also remember her when I smell fish sticks or sweet fabric softener, or when I hear an Elvis song; and I think of no one else when I see roses because TheBunnyDaddy is a major romantic when it comes to his boo. But the thing that reminds me of TheBunnyMommy the most is seeing falling leaves blow around. This is why.
I was in the first grade, and my sister was in the fourth grade at Phillip's Street Elementary School in Fulton, New York. We were normal children, cute, smart and well-mannered, and when we stood next to our younger cousin Evan who had a lazy eye and wore a flesh toned eyepatch beneath his cokebottle glasses we were pretty as Gerber babies.
Our mother was president of the PTA. It was the early eighties, and our Principal wouldn't get caught sucking off married men in a van at Lake Neatawana for another ten years. His beard was secure for the moment. Whoever shall write the book "Sexual deviancy and New York School Systems" shall win the Pulitzer Prize. What is it about Regents that makes grown ass men want to suck dick? "Exams shall be proctored by non-specialized staff and SUCK MY BALLS never proctored by course teachers."
But for the moment, everything and everyone was at peace. Except for my mother.
When you are a child, you don't understand what it is to be an adult. You simply want to play and explore the world, and can't be bothered by the subtle nuances in the stresses and strains on your mommy.
Apparently, I know as I have heard this story many times, my mother had put on a few pounds that fall and wasn't pleased. She and my father are a very handsome couple and my mother worked hard at staying in shape. She is a beautiful woman with thick blonde hair and peachy skin, and all the boys at school had a crush on her as soon as they knew what their penises were for. Even more humiliating was when my girl scout troop leaders began discussing my father's "tight little butt." My parents' attractiveness was something I ignored completely out of embarrassment.
One Fall morning during my mother's "plump" stage, I was shaken from sleep. "BUNNY BUNNY WAKE UP!!!!! YOU'RE AN HOUR LATE FOR SCHOOL!!!!!!" This was a huge deal in my house. You had to have blood gushing from you or a 107 degree fever to be exempt from a day at school. I hurried into my little skivvies, dressed, shoved a few raisins down my throat and met my sister at our car, a noisy green bomb that everyone called "The Putt Putt Car." The heater made you smell like burnt skin.
My mother came flying out the door in her nightgown and curlers, hopped behind the wheel of the "Putt Putt Car" and peeled out of our stone driveway, casting triangle shaped stones we'd found at a quarry nearby all over our neighbor's yard. She drove in a panic and when we got to Philips Street Elemantary, she came to a screeching halt and told us to go in. As soon as the doors slammed shut, she took off so fast her tires screeched. She literally burned rubber.
My sister was crying. I took her cue and started crying too and I assumed we were crying because there were no kids outside and we had to explain to our teachers that we slept in. We were in big trouble. Where was mommy?
We made the long walk up the sidewalk and into the school, a daunting walk when you weigh forty pounds. I remember the leaves blowing across my Kermit the Frog corrective shoes, and that I was too frightened to look at anything else.
When we reached the steps, we split up. I went to my first grade classroom, and my sister went to her fourth grade classroom, and this is when we noticed that there was no one in the school. We checked the nurse's office and the detention rooms. We checked the recess area outside and the gymnasium. There wasn't a soul in the whole school save for my sister and I. Clearly we had missed the bus that had taken everyone to a field trip. All the kids were chasing salamanders at Beaver Creek Nature Center, and we had to sit and wait for them to come back. This made me sad.
We chose to sit outside on the curb our mother had ditched us upon. I played peekaboo with leaves and the Kermit face on my right corrective shoe. It was beginning to make me forget my sadness when I heard wheels screeching around a corner. It was my mother in the "Putt Putt Car" going about fifty miles per hour in a school zone.
Again she came to a halt and jumped out of the car. "GIRLS!!!! GET IN THE CAR!!!!" My sister started crying again, and I thought well okay then and cried too.
"Mommy is so sorry. It's six o'clock in the morning and mommy didn't realize it! Oh stop crying stop crying."
Later my mother felt like she needed to buy us something to make amends. This was a big occasion in our house because we were dirt poor and never had new toys or clothes save for our birthdays and Christmases. She loaded us into the "Putt Putt Car," and took us to a local store, the only place that had toys, and let us pick out My Little Ponies. I was out of control, just possessed with bliss.
My Pony was pink with blue hair. She had wings so she was what people call a "Pegasus." My sister's Pony was white with pink hair, and our ponies immediately found each other to be distasteful and ugly. Clearly my pony was superior.
Snooty Sister Swan: "All the boy ponies like my pony better!"
Bunny: "Well who cares? 'Sides my pony can beat your pony up! And she plays sports better, so hmmm!"
We had them out of the plastic casings and slapping each other around by the time we reached the store exit. Our mother took our free hands and lead us out to the car, but stopped suddenly.
Two old men were sitting in front of the store making fun of some asshole.
Old Man 1: "Look at the way that asshole parked his car."
Old Man 2: "Right in the middle of the damn aisle. Well he mus' be crazy."
And there in the middle of the aisle was our "Putt Putt" car, not attempting to be in any particular space, not adhering to the rules other cars dutifully followed. Just out there. In the middle of the aisle with leaves stuck to the hood.
My mother had been taking diet pills because she didn't like her plumpness. But after these two incidents she decided it would be better to do it the natural way.
And she's still beautiful, and my father is still romantic. And this morning she has roses on her desk because she and my father have been married exactly thirty-six years today.
Happy Anniversary BunnyMommy and BunnyDaddy!
Posted by at 10:46 PM
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