Say

I was just thinking today that I may have never shared the story of my sister's nickname, Say (she actually has more than one nickname, but this one I'm responsible for).

When I was but a toddler, my sister took me everywhere with her. I was around her a lot, especially when Mom was in the hospital giving birth to Dane with I was almost 18 months old.

I think it was when Mom returned from the hospital and I was given to her that I looked around and said, "Where say go?"

Mom was baffled. Everyone else in the room was baffled, I assume... assuming others were in the room, and it seems like Mom mentioned there were others, but I have no idea who they might have been. Nobody knew what I was talking about, even though I asked at least one other time, "Where say go?"

It wasn't until my sister walked in and I exclaimed, "There say is!" they realized I was referring to my sister Lynne (called Rusty at the time) as "Say".

And it stuck. The end.

Well, that and the fact I can't ask where my sister has gone off to without thinking of that story... mainly because I always word it as, "Where Say go?"

And yes, upon her return, I say, "There Say is!"

"Mom, You Ignorant Slut" (A Belated Mother's Day Memory of My Mother)

This is not a story about my mother as much as it is a story about the complete and total ignorance of youth.

It was the late 70s. I was in either late elementary school or about to enter Junior High. Saturday Night Live was mostly the original cast, and I tried to watch it when I could--just because it was so "adult".

For some reason, Mom and I were standing pretty close, face-to-face. She might even have just gotten a hug from me. I have no idea. I just remember we were face-to-face. Wanting to say something funny to her, I flashed on this little tidbit from the Weekend Update part of SNL:

"Yes," thought my young and ignorant mind, "That's funny."

I looked her in the eyes and said, "Mom, you ignorant slut."

I remember she was smiling at the time. You know how things go to slow motion in your mind in a life-or-death kind of situation?

Oh yeah, totally there.

Her face started to cloud over (in slow motion--or that's how I remembered it later, of course), and I could see something was very wrong.

I blurted out as fast as I could and in a very panicked voice, "I don't know what it means! I don't know what it means!"

Yes, my quick thinking saved my life that day. I was instructed that if I don't know what a word means, perhaps I shouldn't use it. (Never mind that I had a good idea of what "ignorant" meant, but still used it.) I was, however, allowed to live.

That's one of my favorite stories to tell about my own ignorance--not just because it shows how ignorant I have been in the past (and thus may be in the future), but it's apparently crazy funny--at least Brenda seems to enjoy the story... and I enjoy that she enjoys it.