So Michael has a birthday tomorrow and I have been thinking about him. So here’s a true story of Michael and his run in with a tomato and the events thereafter.
As it happened one July 4th our parents left South Carolina for Chicago to attend a convention. Mike and I were not allowed to go. Instead we were pawned off on a dear friend of our dads.
Ruth worked mostly late afternoon and nights. She was owner/manager of a beer joint, aka lounge. Dad was, at that time, a frequent guest.
One morning during this week long stay Michael and I were loaded up in her car to visit Ruth’s daughter. Even though the daughter wasn’t at home, Ruth made her way to the garden and picked herself a mess of vegetables.
It wasn’t long after getting back to Ruth’s house that the phone rang. The daughter was not pleased with mom getting vegetables from her garden. Mom argued that she gave her the seeds so she had a right to some of them. The arguing got so intense that the daughter comes to the house to get her vegetables back.
Now Mike and I were in Junior High School and everybody knows there ain’t nothing like a good cat fight. Maybe that is why Mike unlocked the screen door thereby providing free access of the daughter to mom.
Mike and I stood in the living room listening to the arguing when all of a sudden the vegetables began to fly. One nice sized tomato was flung just as Mike made a dash across the firing line to the bedroom. Eventually the drama subsided.
Because Mike and I really didn’t like staying there partly because Ruth made us walk to the grocery store over and over and because we weren’t all that far from home we decided to concoct a plan.
Here’s how it went. Ruth left for work and we knew she would be gone for hours. So we packed our bags and just before our leaving Michael took the vacuum, turned it on and sucked his chest for a few minutes. This left a mark which provided an alibi on where Mike got hit with a tomato.
So we made our way down the road and fortunately for us a friend came by and gave us a lift to the house. You can imagine the call we got once word reached Chicago of our departure. Dad wasn’t happy and made arrangements for us to stay with Melvin and his kids.
So here we go to another sitter. Well, it can’t be as bad as the WWF [World Wrestling Federation] at Ruth’s house. Wrong! Did I mention kids? Melvin and his wife had small kids. Mike and I were put in their room and had to sleep in their bed. The next morning Michael and I were found sleeping with our heads near the foot of the bed and our heads resting on the sill of an open window.
Turns out the kids were bed-wetters. Pee stinks!
Happy birthday Mike and thanks for the memories. As I recall it, this was all your idea.
Until next time,