Monthly Archives: April 2022

Field Trip

Image by F. Muhammad from Pixabay.

As a child, it never crossed my mind that supervising a busload of screaming kids with unsynchronized bladders wasn’t a teacher’s dream. We must have pushed them over the edge.

We children celebrated with 30 choruses of “Ninety-nine Bottles of Beer on the Wall”— amending to “Ninety-nine Bottles of Coke®” when Teacher threatened to return home to soul-choking fractions, verb conjugations and Norwegian exports.

Image by Wolfgang Eckert from Pixabay.

I recall only two scenes from our trip to Indianapolis. First, the governor’s office, with its kingly desk and (gasp!) gold trim on the walls. Surely, this guy wore a crown.

Second, at the Indiana State Museum, an enormous stuffed owl stared with topaz-colored eyes. We remained a respectful distance away.

The final event overshadowed all others: the Dairy Queen. I ate my huge hot fudge sundae without sharing a bite with siblings.

Fast-forward a quarter century. I volunteered to chaperone my child’s class trip to Chicago.

I handled “Ninety-nine Bottles of Beer on the Wall” with parental aplomb. My charges only got lost 23 times in the Field Museum of Natural History. It wasn’t my group who knocked down the dinosaur skeleton. I felt in charge — until we reached the Sears Tower (renamed Willis Tower in 2009).

Image by Aprille from Pixabay.

I must have repressed this destination. I don’t like anything higher than one-inch heels.

No time for regret. We rocketed 103 stories up in the elevator.

Any rational architect would have designed small peep windows at the top. Instead, the area resembled a giant greenhouse.

“Come back!” I simultaneously gripped a railing and grabbed at my charges.

They escaped to the windows.

I yelled, “Don’t look down!”

“Isn’t that why we came?” A sensible girl cocked her head.

“Cool!” A nerd plastered his nose against a window. “That’s a cumulonimbus cloud formation below us.”

The wind kicked up. The building swayed like a giant Hawaiian dancer.

Hours later, I woke up on the bus. “Kids! Where are you?”

“We’re fine.” All four were eating hot fudge sundaes.

My daughter slipped beside me. My failure as a field trip chaperone shrank in the face of her loving solicitude.

“So glad you’re sitting with me.” Tears welled.

“Teacher said I had to thank you.”

I stared. “For what?”

“She knows she can finish the school year now. Compared to you, she feels perfectly sane.”

Your Extraordinary Ordinary: Have you chaperoned a school field trip?

OMG, It’s Monday! Prayer

O Lord, all the trouble on Planet Earth must break Your heart, too. But OMG, a single smile from a four-year-old T-ball player reminds me You are still present in this world! 

The Infamous Jelly Bean Caper

My grocery cart contains skim milk, black beans and Fiber Buddies, but I pause near the “Seasonal Items” aisle.

Image by Jill Wellington from Pixabay.

Chocolate bunnies. Fifty percent off.

If there’s anything better than chocolate, it’s cheap chocolate.

Focus elsewhere, I tell myself.

Jelly beans help me lose the trance. Because they’re favorites? No. As a kid, I liked them, especially green ones — minty treats like chewing gum, only Mom let me swallow them. Nowadays, jelly beans initiate a decades-old mental playback.

Image by Jondolar Schnurr from Pixabay.

My sister, Jean, and I were sneaking cream-filled cupcakes she’d baked for our get-together. Between us, we had five children, ages six and under. We gladly welcomed the help of our younger brother Ken, the handsome hero of his little nieces and nephews. He swung them, threw balls and told stories about valiant exploits as a Pizza Hut waiter.

My five-year-old wandered in.

I said, “Whatcha need, hon?”

She drew close as if sharing a terrible secret. “Mommy, I don’t want to hurt Uncle Kenny’s feelings. But these jelly beans he gave us hurt my tongue.” She deposited the green, gooey mess into my hand.

Fearlessly, I tasted it. Flames devoured my tongue.

I told Jean, “Ken fed our babies jalapeño jelly beans.”

She motioned me from the window, steaming. Our offspring covered the swing set, green tongues hanging out and eyes crossed.

Before mother fury could send us outside, Ken entered and helped himself to several cupcakes.

“Mmmm.” Ken snarfed two down. “What kind are they?”

Image by Gundula Vogel from Pixabay.

My eyes met Jean’s for a brief, telepathic moment. Yes. He deserves it.

“French white-worm-filled,” I told him.

“I got them at the gourmet shop downtown,” Jean deadpanned.

Kenny’s face turned green as the infamous jelly beans. He backed into the bathroom, gagging, while we triumphantly bore cupcakes to our children.

Later, we relished telling him the truth.

Kenny couldn’t believe it. Betrayal! At the hands of his coupon-clipping, Sunday-school-attending big sisters! “You lied to me!”

Jean glared back. “You fed jalapeño jellybeans to my children.”

Though ready to kill our brother then, Jean and I are glad we let him live … most of the time.

“Do that again or anything like it,” I said, “and you will die. S-l-o-w-l-y.”

Although twice our size, Ken took a step back.

Decades later, green jelly beans still give me an inner glow. Oooh, sweet revenge.

Some things feel even better than chocolate, 50 percent off.

Your Extraordinary Ordinary: Have you ever tasted jalapeño jelly beans?

OMG, It’s Monday! Prayer: Easter Afterthoughts

O Lord, some might think these crazy people lined up for blocks in the rain to watch the Cubs or American Idol. It still makes me smile to know they waited to see the Marion, Indiana, Easter pageant. OMG, I know it makes You smile, too.  

Easter Feet

Image by Esi Grünhagen from Pixabay.

As a child, I loved new Easter shoes.

Well, new to me. My friend’s outgrown Mary Janes boasted slightly taller-than-average French heels.

My mother distrusted anything French except toast. “You’re too young for those!”

How could I wear winter-worn oxfords with my “new” dress?

Mom gave in. Eventually, she allowed glorious, pinchy-toe, high heels that made me walk like a camel.

St. Augustine probably passed on French heels, but when he abandoned his sensual, doubt-ridden life and was baptized, he donned special Easter shoes. Shoes that symbolized he would walk in the steps of Christ.

Steve and I took in the view of Jerusalem atop the Mount of Olives.

I walked in Jesus’ steps, too, in Galilee. Down to the Dead Sea. Up the Mount of Olives. Down to the Garden of Gethsemane.

Image by Jeff Jacobs from Pixabay.

That Man walked and walked!

Jesus didn’t wear Dr. Scholl’s® sandals as he traveled mountainous, unpaved roads through Scorpion City. He needed no Fitbit to calculate travel’s toll on His tired, bruised, filthy feet.

One woman poured thousand-dollar-per-ounce perfume on those feet and dried them with her hair.

Image by Dorothée Quennesson from Pixabay.

Did Jesus’ disciples go overboard, too? Hardly. Instead, He pushed aside supper to wash their dirty feet — all 24, including Judas’.

Soon, His own were nailed to a cross as if they had no nerves. When Jesus appeared after His Resurrection, he showed the disciples His hands and feet, printed forever with His love for them.

His love for saints like Augustine.

For the child who in her Easter shoes glimpsed His gift of newness of life. For that child now turned Dr. Scholl’s® queen.

To all, Jesus shows His beautiful feet.

Easter feet.

Your Extraordinary Ordinary: Did you know Jesus loves you, too?

OMG, It’s Monday! Prayer: Girl Vs.Guy Interior Design

O Lord, thank You for lovely pillows that bring spring colors to this brown sofa. That help revive this brown room. But OMG, do You think Hubby and I might disagree as to their, um, arrangement?

She decorates.
He decorates.

Trends: Losers and Winners

Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay.
Image by Olya Lolé from Pixabay.

The Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines “trend” as “a general movement” or “a current style or preference.”

Sounds simple. Yet, anyone who’s studied human behavior for five minutes knows better.

Take, for example, the current fad of torn jeans, some composed of more air than cloth. Designer rip-offs boast price tags approaching a thousand dollars.

Others on my what-are-we-thinking list:

  • Bacon ice cream. Like pleasant people from different planets who should never marry, these two yummy foods should never share a carton.
Image by David Karich from Pixabay.
  • Cyclists wearing earbuds. Don’t these people want to live long enough to know how the song ends?
  • Man buns. Somebody, hide the bobby pins and hairspray. Please.
  • Sleep trackers. Rumpelstiltskin never wore a Fitbit, and he slept so well nobody could wake him for 20 years.
  • Shoes minus socks. During a Midwest winter? Though we could start a new, exciting trend of blue feet as chic accessories. …
  • Gambling TV ads. At least, the IRS is forthright about taking our money.
Image by Milesl from Pixabay.
  • Finally, antler chandeliers. Neither Bambi nor I like this trend. Especially when they cost up to $3,000.

By now, you assume this GOL (Grumpy Old Lady) disses current culture as a favorite hobby.

It’s fun. Below, however, I do list trends that hopefully will endure:

  • Mom jeans haven’t yet topped the torn-jeans fad. Still, I’ve informed my daughters their mother is a fashionista.
  • Excellence in women’s sports. No girls’ team was formed at my huge high school until I was a senior. Now, I watch young women compete with joy (and secret gladness I never worked that hard).
  • The coffee craze. May Mr. Coffee, Mr. Keurig and Mr. Starbucks continue forever.
  • Plentiful public restrooms. During shopping trips when my children were small, we raced madly to the library restroom, our only refuge. Thank God, some businesses got wise. Decades later, my races have resumed, and I can’t always make it to the library.
Image by Natalija Tschelej-Krebich from Pixabay.
  • A “my pleasure” response to a customer’s thank-you instead of “no problem.”
  • Delivery service and free shipping.
  • Church services streamed for those who can’t attend.
  • Tunic tops and ponchos. They cover a multitude of sins.
  • Excellent male fashion insight. Most men reject rompers as possible summer wear. Thanks, guys!

Now, don’t you feel better already?

Your Extraordinary Ordinary: What trends should go away? Which should stay?