Saturday, November 12, 2005

Yo Mama Jingles Keys Funny

Anyone else familiar with the embarrassed feeling you get when you describe a childhood event, something you never thought twice about, and people look at you like you’re batshit crazy? Usually coupled with responses like: “Oh my God, I’ve never heard anything like that” or “You poor child”? It’s not generally what you look for when you’re bringing up shit from your formative years.

Back in the day when I was an itty bitty plum, I was possessed of certain wandering tendencies. Mama Spurious would turn her back on me for ONE SECOND and I’d be in another time zone by the time she found me. The reason I have no siblings is in large part due to the fact that I was, in the words of my Mama Spurious, “a little twit on the move”.

Fortunately, Mama had a secret weapon. The bigass keychain.

It was a brass ring, big as a saucer, with a Virginia Slims ‘You’ve Come A Long Way, Baby’ keychain on it. Mama never smoked, and I‘ve never asked her where she got it. Some things should just remain a mystery. We’ve never even discussed the keychain, and she's probably forgotten all about it, knowing her sensible tendency to forget unimportant crap that makes me all emo.

Anyway, Mama would slip the keys around her wrist and they’d lightly ring against the keychain as she walked. Somehow her keys sounded utterly different than the keys of all the other Mama’s, and I always knew exactly where she was. Sometimes, when I was off hiding under the clothing racks at Gemco, she’d shake her arm to ring those keys and I’d come a-runnin’.

When I described the above incident to a co-worker (I must’ve been high to have discussed this with anyone outside my house), he freeeeeeeaked.

“Dude, did she shout ‘come here girl’, or what?
“Well, she didn’t mean it like that.”
“Ha! You were like her little dog-child.”
“Jesus, it’s not like she fed me Milkbones and shit.”
“Would you have cared? Hiding under stuff at Gemco makes me think you weren’t that picky.”
“No, I was more of a fish food eater actually…”
“WHAT??? This shit gets better and better!”

And then that feeling. Is there a name for that? The you’re-a-weirdass-and
-you’ve-just-given-me-damning-evidence-for-how-you-became-one feeling?
There SHOULD be a word for that, if there isn’t one.

And for the record, fish food is salty as fuck.
Random Fruit Fact: The Pineapple Guava

“The thick, white, granular, watery flesh and the translucent central pulp enclosing the seeds are sweet or subacid, suggesting a combination of pineapple and guava or pineapple and strawberry, often with overtones of winter green or spearmint. There are usually 20 - 40, occasionally more, very small, oblong seeds hardly noticeable when the fruit is eaten.”

Spearmint? WTF?

Learn more about the pineapple guava, here.

Posted by Spurious Nurse at 11/12/2005 08:54:00 AM


  1. Anonymous Anonymous posted at 12:23 PM  
    As you said in regards to alcoholism, embrace it. Once people see that they can't shoot you down with their looks, you'll carry the might of your self presence right past them. And then, when you tell stories like that, they will give you looks that say you are someone who knows what she is talking about.
  2. Blogger mrtl posted at 4:29 PM  
    Oh goodness me! There should be a word for that. There should also be a word for the stories you tell, and someone (like your husband) is so shocked at how seemingly normal you are despite it.
  3. Blogger Squirl posted at 7:07 PM  
    You can't tell me that other people don't have their own weird childhood stories that are normal them, just to no one else. I could probably think of some but maybe I just don't wanna talk about them...
  4. Blogger Southern Fried Girl posted at 10:53 PM  
    Oh man, I have not thought about Gemco in YEARS. Do all kids pull the hide in the clothes rack shit? I will brain the fuck out of my kids if they do that to me.
  5. Blogger Susie posted at 5:54 PM  
    Hmmm, somehow I KNOW that fish food is salty. How am I so certain of that?

    That feeling. Isn't that a big part of blogging? All bloggers get that feeling, and then someone shows up and says, "Yea, that reminds me of that time at band camp..." and then we feel "normal" again :) It's all good, little dog-girl. (I blove you so much.)
  6. Blogger Nilbo posted at 8:44 AM  
    Both my little girls were wanderers, and hide-in-the-clothes-rack types as well. But that ain't safe any more, and I wanted them to be as free as possible (and out of my face when I'm shopping), and yet accessible for safety checks.

    So, we worked out a deal - you can wander as much as you like, but when you hear Daddy do his special whistle, you BOLT for him like you're a Von Trapp being called for supper.

    I just thought it made perfect sense, but one day in the store I was talking to a woman from down the street and she said "Where are your kids?" I gave a low whistle and they magically appeared.

    She smiled tightly and said "My, your Alpo bill must be out of sight."
  7. Blogger ~*ERY*~ posted at 9:45 AM  
    Hahaha yes there should be a word for that feeling. I always hid in the clthes racks as a kid though, I mean thats what they're there for right? And besides its not as strange as when my best friend bought a leash for me at Christmas my Sophomore year in high she could keep track of ME. (No we didn't use it but it was quite funny considering I didn't have a dog at that point)
  8. Blogger LadyBug posted at 11:08 AM  
    Oh, Plum, I think we ALL have stories like that, ones that make other people say, "HUH?" I know I have some. (Of course I can't think of any right NOW, because I have a horrible headache which seems to be interfering with my brain function. But still. I KNOW there are many. My mom was a FREAK.)
  9. Blogger Candace posted at 1:40 PM  
    Nah, that ain't nothin'. I mean, it's pretty cool that you could recognize that keychain jingle; doesn't remind me AT ALL of a dog. That guy is just stupid in the head.

    But at least your mom never lost you in a beer garden in Germany.

    *THAT'S* some good parenting.
  10. Blogger laurenbove posted at 5:07 PM  
    I love that memory. How amazing to have a "sound memory". My mom had her ways too. It's so cool of you to take the time and post this moment.

    I remember the days when mom could leave me in the running car to run in the store to get a quick pack of cigs. Ha. Those were the days. (MOOOOM! Don't forget my candy bar!!)
  11. Blogger Annejelynn posted at 9:45 PM  
    I was a hide-in-the-clothes-racks pro - an absolute pro, I was and I ALWAYS did it knowing that I wasn't supposed to

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