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Flyin' South Forever

11/23/2014

The summer before I turned four, we moved to a town south of the San Jacinto (a moment of silence, please) and north of Houston.

We lived in an apartment for a short time while our parents looked for a house. I ordered one with stairs…

Maria and I got the master bedroom in this apartment. It was HUGE! I could do 16 cartwheels from one end to the other. Can you believe that???

(You don’t really believe that, do you?)

Well, they were cartwheels performed by a confident three-year-old.

The china hutch came with us, as did all of our toys, thank goodness. I was worried they would get lost in the move.

We quickly investigated all the fun things to do in our area. There was a Mexican food restaurant that put candy in the bottom of the chip basket...I approved of this place.

There was the Ice Cream Emporium, where I ate my first egg salad sandwich, and several hundred vanilla cones. Blue Bell, of course. I approved of this place.

And, there was…wait for it…a POOL! I also, if you don’t already know, approved of this place.

So, if you're keeping score:
- surprise candy
- egg salad
- Blue Bell
- and a pool

Pretty nice. And I still don’t understand why that other town is so danged famous when my new town has all of the above? (That famous town being Dallas, Texas.)

Maria and I thought we were in Heaven. Good food, relaxin’ by the pool, a huge room (with our own bathroom, by the way), and all our toys. Life was good.

Until……the night was shattered by an ear-splitting scream...

MURDER.

Dun, dun, dun...

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Red

11/16/2014

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I do not hate this color at all. In fact, I think it is quite beautiful. But it certainly gave me much pain for several years.

I have red hair.

My parents have black hair. So does Maria.

No one, and I do mean no one else, has red hair in my family.

Why is that all famous orphans have red hair? Annie, Anne of Green Gables, Heidi, and Tom Sawyer have red hair. I’ve even seen Oliver played by people with strawberry blonde hair. Why do they all have red hair?

It was a cause of concern for me. Was I an orphan?

My mother and father reassured me I was not, but it wasn’t like you could explain the birds and the bees to an almost three year old. And my dad had some kind of joke about it. It goes like this…

“Do you know why Kara has red hair?” And the unassuming person says, "Why?" And my dad says, “Because I was a little rusty.”

EEEEEEWWWWWWWW!!!!

I get that joke now. I didn’t get it when I was younger, thank God!

Anyway, my red hair was absolutely one of the more tragic things in my life. First of all, no dolls were made with red hair. Second, it was thick and coarse and impossible to tame. And third, it was the color of carrots.

How horrifying. Carrots.

When Anne Shirley slammed her slate home, I cheered her on. She and I are truly kindred spirits.

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"Get to" vs. "Have to"

11/9/2014

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Two-year olds are expected to begin having a relationship with the toilet. No more diapers. No more care-free days. It is time to become responsible, to allow something besides your own imagination control parts of your day.

Ugh.

So, my mother introduced me to the toilet, and he and I did NOT get along. How dare he make me stop playing! How dare he make me consider there are other things to think about besides follow-the-leader! I was very put-out.

And lucky Maria didn’t have to worry about this at all! She was allowed to go right on thinking the world was her's to command! And here I sat on something so cold and hard and quite boring.

The person who said being the oldest child was better than being the middle child, or the baby, was an idiot. The reason I have no qualms using such harsh language is because this idiot is assuming the oldest child actually WANTS to go first. The idiot also assumes going first is easy and fun and empowering.

How can I disagree with this logic, you ask? (If you can call it that.)

Going first means you don’t have ANYONE to talk to about your experience. There is no one around to give you advice. No one is available to sympathize with you, or show compassion for, let’s see…starting school first, going to middle school first, getting your license first, graduating first. These are all very hard things to do when you have no one to show you how to do it.

I’m sure some of you are saying, “What about your parents?”.

I was their first child. I was their guinea pig. I was the “trial-run”. Even getting financial aid for the first time was an ordeal because my parents were learning how to apply for it at the same time I was.

Anyway, here is where I clarify “have to” and “get to”. Those younger than me always said, “Kara gets to go to school and I don’t! Kara gets to drive and I don’t! Kara gets to graduate from the eighth grade and have a special party and I don’t!”

I would like to turn all of those “get tos” into “have tos”, if you don’t mind.

There is also the matter of being a “tough act to follow”. The eighth grade party I mentioned earlier had to be done for Maria. But since we’d already had one for me, I believe it lost its special glow. (Not for me, mind you. I was very happy to see Maria reach her “rite of passage”.)

But for Maria, I think, sometimes, she was disappointed that reaching her milestones didn’t seem as special. (Even though they were, and she better not argue with me.)

So, there I was going through something I found absolutely horrible, and Maria seemed to think it was great. She thought it was so great she actually began using the potty herself. At that time, anything I did, she wanted to do. Remember, I was a genius.

Maria was potty trained at ten months. I wasn’t done until I was three.

And so begins a pattern of the first child “having to” do something and the second child “getting to” do it, too. Because waiting was just…OUT OF THE QUESTION.

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The China Hutch

11/2/2014

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My granddad made a china hutch for my mother. I don’t know how old she was when he gave it to her, but she was probably no more than six years old.

A six year old that needed a china hutch…

If you know my mother it doesn’t surprise you that even as young as she was, she needed a place to house her china. It was an elaborate place setting. She had serving trays to go along with her cups and saucers, tea pot and sugar bowl. Each dish had a wide, pale pink stripe and there were flowers on the stripes. (I think they were blue flowers.)

I can imagine her perfectly, pouring her tea for her Madeline doll, her manners impeccable, never breaking a single dish. She was a girl’s girl.

Let’s fast forward twenty years and go back to that playroom I told you about. It housed several toys, along with her china hutch. Yes, it was handed down to her daughters in mint condition and I know she was so excited to share it.

I’m sure she imagined us loving it as much as she had, taking care of all of our tea sets (ours were plastic because I couldn’t be trusted with breakable objects), and enjoying many hours of pouring and polite conversation with dolls that didn’t talk back.

No such luck…

I know exactly what I used the hutch for, and it certainly wasn’t for setting up dishes with flowers on them!

When Mother told us to go clean up the playroom, the hutch came in REALLY handy. It had two shelves enclosed by double doors and, how convenient, I could shove all the toys in there! Cleaning up was a breeze!

And Maria thought I was a genius, so she was shoving toys inside with me.

So, when Mom checked on us and saw a clean playroom, and she asked if we were finished and if all the toys were in the right place… I said, “Yep!”.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, was my first lie.

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Kara O'Neal

An author who has too much to say is dangerous.

The subjects on this blog:

Monday Memories -- My Childhood

Wednesday Words -- Books!

To be a guest on my blog:

Contact: [email protected]

Monday Memories: Cast

Kara -- Me
Maria -- sister
Wendy -- sister
Bill -- brother

M'Lynn -- mother
Drummond -- father

Grace -- mother's redheaded friend
Liam -- Grace's husband
Gorgeous (Georgie) -- oldest son and friend
Phillip -- middle son and friend
Andrew -- last child and friend

Jo -- mother's "big idea" friend
Noah -- Jo's husband who builds things
Jack -- oldest son and friend
Roxi -- middle daughter and friend
Lela -- last child and friend

Alex -- friend who travels the country and lives in Dallas
Blossom -- friend who lives in Dallas and sells houses

Miss Holly -- next door neighbor
Kirk -- middle son
Scotty -- youngest son

Lou -- uncle on my dad's side who likes baseball
Evaline -- my dad's sister who's crazy funny
Luke -- oldest son and my cousin
Han -- younger son and my cousin

Clark -- my mother's brother who bleeds maroon

Alexander -- my eldest cousin on my dad's side

Dawn -- cousin on my dad's side that is the same age as Maria