Dusty broken glass and me.

 

A bit about me:

Somewhere on this planet there are folks more capable than I at understanding and communicating with the 10-year old mind of
a boy.  I splash around a little in the conversation but I am doing little more than creating a distraction in hopes of a life preserver being tossed.  Over the weekend thatguyilivewith and I had a two on one ride to town with Eli.  This wasn’t weird but we do typically have Eli and younger grandson Cash as a matched set.  It was only a 25-minute drive into town to pick up some take out for Family Friday Fajita night but it was a universal conversation. 

If you have a 5^th grader in your life my best advice to you is to avoid the topic of the Solar System unless you want to interview the planets, the sun, the moon and whatever Pluto has been demoted to since I was in the 5^th grade.  FYI: Mercury is from the outback of Australia and Uranus is the butt of many jokes, pun intended. 

I realized as I attempted to formulate meaningful questions about each planet, that I lacked some base knowledge about planets.  The starting point was pretty low.  I know that some have moons and rings, some are different colors, and that earth is the cute one. 

So being the me-centric, ego maniac that my resume speaks so highly of, I decided to give you, my loyal and few readers, the bullet point version of me; Dawn101: The Basics of otherwise useless information that would best prepare anyone to interview me. 

1.     
Don’t touch my head or my hair.  This is by far the fastest way to be voted off my planet.  I will not attempt to explain why or when it started but don’t; just don’t. I remember as a kid that one of my favorite people, Dean, could not stand to have anyone touch her knees.  Being that brat, I saw this as a challenge to touch her knees.  Please do not see this as a challenge to touch my head or my hair.  Unlike Dean, I will not make a game of it.

2.       As a child or a young adult, I would collect glasses. Drinking glasses, shot glasses, mugs.  This weekend while doing a little spring cleaning in the shop thatguyilivewith noted a box of my collectables.  I didn’t open it and reminisce through the newspaper wrapped breakables but I came in the house to find the one glass that matters to me now.  Yes,  there it was behind the Coke glasses and A&W Rootbeer mug from the 1970’s, behind the jelly jar I was supposed to return to mother for a refill, behind the Kentucky Derby souvenir glass, the McDonalds glass coffee mug, and the bunny rabbit salt and pepper shakers that need to be loaded and used for the Easter season.  There it was with the broken shard still laying in the bottom of the glass covered with dust. It’s a small drinking glass wrapped with white flowers that would vanish if the glass were filled with milk but jump visibly into your hand if filled with sweet tea. Maybe I should have thrown it away years ago but it is very important to me.  It was a gift.

 

Here is how it went down:  It was in December at my birthday party. I had a few friends over to spend the night and gang up on one another as girls do.  I don’t remember the year but I would guess I was close to 13 years old because I think that is when girls are the meanest; I could be wrong on both counts.  My friends were gathered around the bar in the kitchen with me and my mom and my grandmother who lived with us.  Others may have been there but I honestly cannot remember and it doesn’t really impact the story.  I don’t remember any gifts that I received that year besides the drinking glass.  It was a gift from my grandmother. 

 

All of my cousins and my sister called her Granny but I called her Grandmother.  We had a special connection that I think all kids should have with a grandparent. I was the baby in the family, I lived in the room next to hers, I was a pest.  Any of these could be why I considered myself to be her favorite. It is irrelevant how she ranked me. 

The glass came from the Libbey glass factory in Shreveport which to grown me is really a cool place but even as a drinkware collector it was not cool to my teenage self.  There in front of all my friends I unwrapped a regular kitchen drinking glass.  I don’t remember what I said or if I said anything at all but I remembered being embarrassed and I somewhat remember hurting Grandmother’s feelings.  She bought me a collectible and I didn’t have the sense to see it.

 

3.       My growing, laughing, traveling and not perfect family.  I married thatguyilivewith in the summer of 1988.  We were children by most standards.  Together we have raised three beautiful boys into men who respect and love and give in many areas of their lives.  We have two daughter-in- laws who could not be more different from one another but shoulder up like sisters in our family.  Parenthetically, I am in the market for one more daughter in law.  I have nearly unattainable standards but I am accepting nominations.  We have five rowdy grandkids that I consider to be the tiara I received for not abandoning my own children.  Lastly, I must add that I am one of the blessed among women my age to still have my mother in my world.  She's beyond my use of adjectives.