Mama came in my room two days before and laid it on me. Gramma had died.
THE NERVE.
Not only had she died but the funeral? The FUNERAL was gonna be...ON SATURDAY. NO, I muttered. Yes, Mama muttered back.
Geez. A funeral. Mid-day too...spoiling the whole day. Pfui. You know it ain't like it was somebuddy I cared about a whole lot. To be honest, Gram was kind of a hateful old biddy, and even Mama would tell you that...and often did when she knew Gram wasn't listening. Not like cousin Beatrice, bless her heart. I loved her, she was always so good to me. Never made fun of me or nothin'. Always had cookies and stuff, AND SHE died in the fall AFTER fishing season, and best of all her funeral was on a week day so I got out of school. Now THAT is the way to go. Good times all around, except maybe for cousin Beatrice but hell...she was dead and gone anyway,
You might thnk that Gram wudda done the same but no. She died so her funeral was gonna be on a Saturday and no school...AND the nicest day of the early Spring so far. DANG it.
That morning, I was in a mood most foul...and Mama knew it so Daddy got the unpleasant job of making sure I was 'presentable' for the 'gathering'. When I saw his face ALL thoughts of wearing my fave hole filled jeans with the straggly pockets was out. INSTEAD, I got the Daddy washes face and environs treatment..WITH the scratchiest nastiest washcloth EVER and he bore down like he was drilling for oil. Geez. When he got to my most sensitive spot, behind my ears, he REALLY went to town. Pulling on them, and scratchy scratchy. Crap. OW. OW. OW. Unfortunately Daddy is way above being deterred by my hollering like a stuck pig. Having been a boy himself YEARS ago, I guess he remembers and don't ever pay my loud complaining no mind.
CHAPTER I
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