My Dad used to tell the same jokes over, and over, and over, and over. No one ever seemed to mind though. In fact, most people enjoyed my Dad so much that they just let him tell them over and over, and they laughed as if they’d heard them for the very first time. I miss my Dad’s jokes, and I miss my Dad.
I too, tell a story over and over. I’m not so sure people enjoy hearing it over and over, but I tell it anyways. Just because.
Mum used to drop me off early for kindergarten at Ashcroft Elementary, because I loved playing Duck, Duck, Goose outside the school before class started. She and my brother would watch me get out of the car, and walk until I was safely under the awning with the other kids, and then Mum would leave to drop Larry off at St. Robert’s for 2nd grade. After school, my brother would tease me and tell me I walked like a penguin. And every single time I walk with anyone through snow or ice, for the last 50+ years, I tell the story of my brother saying I walked like a penguin.
And I do, actually. I’m scared to death of falling. Always have been. And so, I wobble on the ice.
This weekend I took Mum to see the musical “Mary Poppins, Jr.” and she had to walk on uneven asphalt to get to the car after the play. The ground was cold and wet, (and yes, I was wobbling like a penguin). I spotted a worm and stepped over it. Mum began to laugh. When I asked her what was so funny, she said she remembered that I have always avoided stepping on worms. I’d leap over them, walk around them, do anything I could to avoid them. Still do. She said she’d see me walking home from school, and watch as I leapt over puddles to avoid stepping on worms after a rain storm. I guess some things never change, because I still can’t stand looking at them, and try to avoid squishing the poor little things. (Imagine my disgust when Ian brought me a handful he’d dug up outside our house when he was about three or four years old)!
I have a new story to tell over and over now. Not only do I still wobble like a penguin, I still leap over worms too! Wanna know the best part? I’m a 58-year-old Grandma, who still has her 85-year-old Mum to share them with, and I think that’s nothing short of Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious! Don’t you? (Thanks, God!) Happy Birthday, Mum!