Humor
My cousin Shirley Wolfe Cameron, commented on a story I wrote a couple of days ago, and while this story and that one really have very little to do with each other, her comment sparked a little memory for me. My story was on my great grandmother, Henriette Schumacher’s debilitating arthritis, but it reminded Shirley of our grandmother, Anna Schumacher Spencer when she was in a wheelchair with debilitating arthritis. Shirley is Grandma’s first granddaughter, and while she is not the oldest grandchild, she was always very close to Grandma. Grandma lived with the Wolfe family for many years, and so the two of them shared many good times, and Shirley has many great memories of those times, and of her grandma. They are memories that most of us younger grandchildren wish we had too. I don’t remember my grandmother at all, because she died when I was just three months old, but in some ways, I really think I must be a bit like her…especially when it comes to my grandchildren.
Shirley told me of the times when she was in trouble with her mother, my aunt, Ruth Spencer Wolfe. She said she would run in to Grandma, yelling, “Grandma, Grandma, Grandma!!” Then she would climb up in Grandma’s lap a wait for her mother to come in after her. Grandma was always a bit of a peacemaker, and like me, she hated to see her grandchildren being disciplined. As grandmothers, we know they have to be disciplined…otherwise, they turn out pretty bratty, but it still breaks our hearts that our precious little babies have to get punished. Unfortunately, their parents don’t always like our soft hearted ways. They think that Grandma is a pushover…and, really we are. So, our pushover Grandma, would lift Shirley up into her lap and make a game of protecting Shirley from her mom’s punishment. Aunt Ruth got frustrated during those little episodes, like most parents would, but most of the time, in the end, she laughed along with her mother and her daughter, because she knew that this battle was lost.
My grandchildren were totally my weakness too. I was a fairly strict disciplinarian with my daughters, Corrie and Amy, but when it came to the grandkids, I was a pushover. Everyone knew it, from the grandkids to their parents, and even my parents and sisters. Even if the kids did something wrong when they stayed with me, their parents never knew it, because I didn’t want them to get into trouble. Thankfully, they are good kids, and they don’t take serious advantage of their grandma…or maybe they do, and I am too much of a pushover to realize it. My status as a pushover became a family joke of sorts too. The kids always knew that if Bob and I went out of town, we were going to bring them something back. They have had a variety of toys, candy, souvenirs, and t-shirts, including one of my favorite t-shirts. It was the one that went something like, “When all else fails…Call 1-800-Grandma.”
We have laughed at and used that saying many times over the years, and while I can’t say for sure that they ever really told on their parents, they did do their best to spend the night often. Maybe their parents were grouchy, and they wanted to go spend time with the pushover, or maybe they just liked to spend the might with their grandma, I can’t say for sure. One thing I can say for sure, however, is that kids have been calling 1-800-Grandma in one way or another, for as long as grandmothers have existed. There is simply no way for a mother who was a good parent to their own kids, not to relax and realize that you don’t always have to take life so seriously with your grandchildren.
As kids, most of us have varying degrees of difficulty keeping track of our toys, mittens, coats, shoes, homework, and other such vital items, and when it comes to actually looking for those lost items, we somehow seem to be less than adept. How can so many things simply disappear in our rooms? I used to think that my daughter, Amy had a black hole in her room, because some of that missing stuff was never heard from again…even when we moved!! Nevertheless, Amy was not alone in her mysterious disappearances. It seems to be a common problem among children…and some adults are no better at keeping track of their things…losing cell phones, keys, paperwork, remote controls, and any other item that they were going to put in a safe place, so it would not get lost.
I remember so many times as a kid, when I couldn’t find something, and my mom would tell me to go look for it, because she didn’t have time to hunt for it when we were fully capable. 
That did not inspire us to go and search our rooms in depth until the much needed item was found, but rather caused us to wander aimlessly around our room…playing with other things that came into our line of sight, because those things seemed much more important than looking for a lost shoe on a school day. Then after playing for a little while, we would wander out to the front room again, whining to Mom that we just couldn’t find it. It was our hope that Mom would finally take pity on us and come to help us hunt for that missing item. Most of the time we were sadly disappointed…except for the possibility of the missing shoe on a school day, which usually found us wearing some other pair of shoes, that probably didn’t really go with the outfit we had on, but would have to do, because like it or not, we were going to school. Mom wasn’t about to let something as minor as wearing a dress with tennis shoes, keep us home on a school day.
So, we usually found ourselves back in the bedroom, hunting for that missing item again, and wishing Mom would just come and find it, because she was so much better at looking for 
things than we were. I suppose that she was right in making us do things for ourselves. I think I do better than the average person at keeping track of my things these days, because of Mom’s teachings. Although I must admit that I still lose things sometimes too. Mom taught us to put things away, although we don’t always do so…even today. But the thing I remember the most about those times when I was in my room hunting for a lost item, and unable to find it, was my mom saying, “You’ll never find it if you keep looking for it on the ceiling”, which meant quit walking around the room hoping it will jump out at you, and start looking under the bed, in the drawers, or in the closet, so you will find it already.
My sister, Allyn and I were texting the other day. She used the slang comment…for real. I understood exactly what she was talking about, thereby aging both of us as children of the 70’s. It’s something that happens to everyone no matter how young or how old. Each generation has it’s own slang, and the other generations might, or more like probably, will not understand it. And even if they do, they would probably laugh at you for using such old fashioned slang!!
There is also, another type of slang that can place you in a certain group, and I suppose it can be just as funny. Again, in the 70’s and early 80’s, a lot of people had CB radios. I suppose it was the cell phone of that era, since no one had even heard of cell phones back then. Most CBers had a base unit at home, and smaller units in the cars. It was a great way for family members to keep in touch, let parents know they were running late for curfew, had car trouble, or were on their way home for supper. It left little excuses for kids to say, “I had no way of letting you know!” The kids might not have liked it, but it worked.
Not everyone had a CB radio, of course, but my husband, Bob’s family had several truckers or ex-truckers in it, so it was considered the normal for us. If you have ever had a CB radio, you would know that everyone had a handle…the name they used so people knew who they were talking to. My father-in-law was the Wrenchbender, my mother-in-law was the Lady Wrenchbender. My brother-in-law, Lynn was the Sparrow, my sister-in-law, Debbie was Lady Bird. Bob was the Slingshot, I was the Lady Slingshot. My sister-in-law, Jennifer was the Patchwork Girl, my sister-in-law Brenda was Slipstitch, and my brother-in-law, Ron was Grape Ape, and my sister-in-law, Marlyce was…well, her handle has escaped all of us, and is now driving us crazy, trying to think of it, but she did have one. Even our girls had a handle…although they never used the CB…Corrie was Little Slingshot and Amy was Tiny Slingshot. It was a lot to remember, but just like your friends’ names, you did it.
And then there was the CB jargon. Things like Smokey, Hammer Down, Bubblegum Machine, Go Juice, Choke and Puke, Negatory…Cop, go really fast, patrol car, drink, roadside diner, and no, respectively, and all of which you may have heard, if you have ever watched “Smokey and the Bandit” before. These were common terms…but, only if you used a CB radio…or saw the 
movie. Of course, there were many others too, and I could go on and on, but you would undoubtedly get bored with that.
These are all terms that I haven’t used for a very, very long time. Nevertheless, the other morning when I was on my way to pick up my daughter, Amy for work, since her son, Caalab has her car while his is being repaired. I called her to let her know I was on my way. As I was ending the call, I found myself saying…out of the blue and for no reason I could think of…”I’ll see you in a short“, which is CB slang for a minute or so. I haven’t said that in so long, and Amy obviously missed the comment, because she didn’t say a word, but it sure brought back memories for me.
My grandma, Harriet “Hattie” Byer was never a very big person in stature, but when it came to being the boss, she was a giant. Grandma was a loving person and very kindhearted. She would never let anyone go hungry, and often had several extra mouths at the supper table. No one could ever figure out just how she managed to always have enough food for all of her family, and yet still have plenty for extras, even when she didn’t know they were coming. Yes, when it came to the kitchen, Grandma was the Queen!!
Grandma was pretty easy going, but when one of her kids crossed the line, they found out exactly who was the boss. Grandma’s short stature in no way diminished her ability to discipline her children or grandchildren if they had dared to cross her much…like the time she was giving my Uncle Larry a spanking, and my mother dared to interfere. There was no doubt in my mother’s mind that her mother seemed giant like…or at the very least, had giant like strength when she grabbed her by the hair, jerking her back to receive her own spanking for sticking her nose in where it did not belong. And then there was the time that an adult Aunt Bonnie, dared to suggest that grandma couldn’t take her down now, because she was too big for her mother to handle. Grandma immediately reached over and grabbed Aunt Bonnie’s feet and pulled them right out from under her, depositing her, with mouth wide open, on the floor. Aunt Bonnie found out what a giant her mom was too.
More than one of the grandchildren have learned the hard way, that Grandma ruled like a 
giant. I remember getting crossways with her myself, one time when my mom and dad were hunting. Grandma was babysitting my sisters and me. I don’t remember what it was I did now, but I do remember that I knew I was in the wrong, and I remember that when Grandma was done with me, I had no doubt in my mind that she was a giant of a woman. It wasn’t that she beat the daylights out of me, because I don’t recall that she even spanked me. She simply let me know that she was in charge, and I had better not forget it. Grandma stood 5′ in her tall days, and about 4’10’ after she began to shrink, but when it came to being in charge, Grandma was a giant of a woman. Today would have been Grandma’s 105th birthday. Happy birthday Grandma!! We love you!!!
Every woman can relate to being taken for a ride by a mechanic who took advantage of her lack of knowledge about the automobile, but most of us would hope that the mechanic that took advantage wasn’t related, and certainly wouldn’t expect that it would be their brother. Nevertheless, when that brother is of the type to take great pleasure in teasing his sisters, everything is fair game…and there are no rules. It is every sibling for themselves. Over the course of the years when my husband, Bob’s brother, Ron was too young to help out with the cars, Bob was the family mechanic, and he enjoyed it very much.
He was also a big clown, and he thoroughly enjoyed picking on his sisters. One time his sister, Brenda wanted him to fix her turn signal. She wasn’t sure what was wrong with it, and so she asked her mechanic for his opinion. He told her that it could be low on blinker fluid, and made arrangements to have her come to our house so he could check it for her. She was happy with that, but when she told someone else that she had to get her blinker fluid checked…well, let the laughter begin. Brenda didn’t live that one down for quite a while, and in fact, it was a standing joke for years. Of course, Brenda was a good sport about it, even making the joke herself on many occasions. So now you know that if your turn signal doesn’t work, forget fuses, it is most likely the blinker fluid.
Of course, Bob just wanted to see if he could pull one over on his sister, and unlike scamming mechanics, he would never have charged her for checking the blinker fluid, but there are many women that haven’t had such an honest, though quite bratty mechanic. I have to wonder how many women have actually paid someone to check their blinker fluid…or is my husband the only brat who would prey on his gullible sister with such a crazy repair idea. I’m sure that here are a number of scamming mechanic stories out there, and that is a sad thing, but my mechanic might tease his women clients, but would never rip them off.
Bob always was and always will be a great kidder, and his favorite targets are his family members. No one is immune…they are all fair game. He has even done it to me, although I had been married 
to him for a few years by then, so I was a little more wise to his tricks, when he tried to convince me that the kick in the seat of the pants feeling my car was giving me was all in my head and not the U-Joint that it really was. I got even though, we were going out with some friends, and we went in our car, and the car did the same thing, and I said, “There!! Did you guys feel that?” Well, Bob was stuck, and sheepishly admitted that it was the U-Joint, and he was going to fix it, but I wasn’t going to let it go at that. I told our friends that he had been trying to convince me for a couple of weeks, that there was nothing wrong, and it was all in my head. As Bob, looking like the cat that ate the canary, grinned at us, we all got a laugh at his expense for once.
Any time you have two girls whose mom gives birth to a baby brother, you have two little mothers in training. They want to be involved in everything, even if they are only 5 and 7 years older than the baby brother. In fact, that might even make it more likely that they will try to show off their skills. Smaller sisters might not give much thought to a baby brother, but when they start thinking they are big now, they want everyone to know it. And for that little brother…well, he can plan on a lot of years of being bossed around by those sweet, innocent looking little bossy mommies in training. This was the world my brother-in-law, Ron Schulenberg was born into. Oh, those first couple of years were probably great, being cuddled and pampered by his big sisters, who just loved the baby, but then, he became a toddler, and the terrible twos came about, and suddenly those nice big sisters were just as bossy as they could be.
I first met Ron, when his older brother, Bob and I started dating, and I can tell you that Ron always seemed to find himself in the wrong place, at the wrong time, doing the wrong thing…especially where his older sisters, Jennifer and Brenda were concerned, and older sisters, Marlyce and Debbie agreed. Boys will be boys, but I guarantee that their older sisters are not amused by that fact. I can remember Jennifer and Brenda telling Ron to “knock it off, and behave himself” more than times than I can count. Here he was, just trying to show off for company, and what do those darned big sisters do…well, they just go off and embarrass a guy!! Thankfully, though there were also good times, when they would do things with him and life would be great again, or he might have just had to not like his sisters at all.
It was also a good thing for Ron, that he had a big brother, among those four big sisters, who didn’t mind hanging out with his little brother, even on a date. I suppose it was a matter of Bob having had to live with two older sisters all his life and two younger ones for quite a while. Bob knew what sisters were like, and he had to take sides with his little brother…guys have to stick together…right? I mean, it was four to two, and those were tough odds. And for Ron, the added insult of always being the baby brother, even when he was a great big 5 year old…well, 
you get the picture.
The good news is that Ron grew up, and as most siblings, with age comes friendship. His sisters found out how handy he was to have around…especially when they needed a helping hand with things. Ron is a great mechanic, and he’s pretty handy with most carpentry tools too, so anytime someone needs something built, he can usually get it done. He will always be their baby brother, but we all agree that he isn’t a baby anymore…in fact the youngest is the tallest!! Maybe that was for self defense, who knows. Today is Ron’s birthday!! Happy birthday Ron!! We love you!!
With Valentine’s Day coming up tomorrow, everyone is buying candy and other goodies for their favorite valentine. In that spirit and in conjunction with the Super Bowl, our church always has a Chili Luncheon and Cake Auction. We bring in cakes, and then bid on them, paying insanely high prices to buy the things needed for the Sunday School classes. It is a great way to have a good time and see what great cooks we have in the church…and believe me, we have great cooks!!
My niece Jessi bid on and won a pink layer cake that she shared with the family at the luncheon, and it was amazing. It was what I would call the sleeper of the day, because had anyone known how amazing that cake was, Jessi would never have won the bid. Some of the well known cakes go for as much as $300.00, and this one would have been right up there. That said, I’m glad for us that no one knew, because we got to have it. It had like 4 layers, including a fruit topping and cream layers, along with the cake layers. It was absolutely Heavenly!!
Because the cake was pink, and in honor of the coming Valentine’s Day holiday, the perfect final touch was three red heart suckers. This worked out very well, because we had three little ones in our family that were there at that point, so they each got one of them. Now, anyone who has ever eaten a red sucker, or any other color for that matter, knows that all that pretty 
color is going to show up on their tongue, and that was exactly what happened.
Yes, all of them had the red tongue, but Aurora being a girl and a little older than her cousin Aleesia, is very into sticking out her tongue for the camera, just like the bigger girls do. I never could understand the whole sticking your tongue out thing. It reminds me of throat cultures, but the way Aurora does it is more like sticking your tongue out at someone you are mad at, except with a smile on her face. Because she likes doing that, she was happy to have me take her picture, so that everyone could see her Valentine Tongue.
Growing up, I recall that my sisters and I were often called, with a degree of surprise, the Spencer girls. I know that a lot of people would say that was simply our last name, but that didn’t really seem to be the reason. Even our boyfriends got that. People would say, “You are going out with one of the Spencer girls?” like they were shocked about it…or like they wondered how they had managed to live through meeting our dad…which couldn’t have been further from the truth about how our dad was. I know that some dads are the kind of guy who practically threatens any guy who wants to take out their daughters, with bodily harm if they break her heart. Now, don’t get me wrong, because our dad would have done whatever he needed to do to protect his daughters, but he was a man who would give a guy the benefit of the doubt…until they proved that they were trouble. Nevertheless, every guy we went out with was a Knot Head!! I suppose that was Dad’s way of saying that, in his opinion, no guy was good enough for his little girls…and believe me, most of them weren’t. The keepers were the ones who showed Dad that they weren’t Knot Heads.
We used to get…almost annoyed with Dad when he called guys Knot Heads, but deep inside, we knew that it was really his way of telling us that he wanted the very best for us, and this guy would have to prove himself before he would believe that he was worthy of our love. He wanted us to have men in our lives who would be good to us, treat us like ladies, protect us, and most of all, love us…until death we do part. How could we ever really be mad at him about that? It simply showed the love our dad had for his daughters…and down the road, granddaughters and grandsons, although the girlfriends weren’t Knot Heads.
Dad always had a way about him. He was able to tease us about boyfriends and yet, really mean that he wasn’t sure this guy was any good. Even while we protested at the name he gave them, we knew that it was more about us than the guy. He wanted us to know that his love for his daughters made him doubt most of the guys we went out with. He knew what most teenaged boys and even young men in their twenties were really like. Marriage and respect weren’t what they had in mind…unless they were the right guy, and that guy would endure the scrutiny and the doubt, and go on to prove to Dad and his daughters that they were the kind of men Dad wanted for his daughters…and not the Knot Head that he had thought them to be.
Looking back now, I am thankful for the scrutiny my dad used to view the men we dated, because it was through that scrutiny that I ended up with my husband, Bob. Yes, Bob was a Knot Head when we first started dating, just like every other guy I dated, but in later years, after he endured the scrutiny and passed the test, Dad often told me how proud he was of Bob. He liked him a lot, and respected him very much. Dad knew he could count on Bob to help out when anyone in the family needed help, but more importantly, he knew that Bob would be there for me throughout our lives. And he was right. Bob had proved himself, and in the last days of Dad’s life, Dad knew that he could count on Bob to help with the caregiving work that was needed in our family as well as in Bob’s, because Bob was definitely no longer a Knot Head.
I have noticed in the family history books that my Uncle Bill Spencer put together over the years, that people in the family, or maybe that era, would sometimes just pick up and go visit a different branch of the family…often without much or any advance notice of their impending arrival. I suppose that sometimes they just got excited about finding out about a different branch of the family, and decided to go check it out for themselves. Being a bit shy around strangers, family or otherwise, I find this type of visit to be very strange indeed. What do you say to those people after the initial, “Hello, You don’t know me, but I am your relative from Wyoming.” I would simply have no idea. That is probably why most people who do go to visit relatives they don’t know or don’t know well, take someone else with them…to help carry the conversation. I can’t imagine going alone, and yet that seems to be the norm for some people.
My grandfather did just that when he went out to visit his Aunt Tessie, as did his brother, my Great Uncle Clifford. Oddly, both of them just dropped in on Aunt Tessie!! I don’t know if Uncle Clifford just liked what he heard about Aunt Tessie from his brother, my Grandpa Allen Luther Spencer, or if he was curious about her and her family too, or if he even knew of the prior visit by a member of his family, but he went, and he went alone. I also have to wonder what Aunt Tessie thought of the whole thing…like, “What is it about me that makes these people keep just showing up here?” It appears to me, as it did to my Uncle Bill, that my cousin Cornelius Davis, who was Aunt Tessie’s son, found his cousin a little strange, or maybe the entire visit was just strange to him. It’s possible that he was wondering why these relatives just popped in like they did too, without any advance notice…or maybe he was wondering just how long this guy planned to stay.
Bob and I have gone many times to visit his family in Forsyth, Montana, but we always told them that we were coming, and our stay was just a week. I guess, in days gone by, when it takes a long time to get somewhere, it didn’t make sense just to stay a week, because it probably took several days driving out, so if all you had was a week, you would have to turn around and leave again. Still, I can’t imagine going for a visit without letting anyone know. Of course, the phone was not widely used in those days, so it would mean a telegraph, but it seems that many people just went and didn’t worry about it. Whatever the case may be, my cousin Cornealius seemed to think it was rather a strange visit indeed.
My grand nephew Jake has always been a goofy kid. His favorite thing to do is make people laugh, and he will do just about anything he can to make that happen. He has been known to sit on people’s laps just to see if they are surprised, and then turn around and goof off with a cousin or two to see if he can make them laugh…while he is sitting on the lap of the first person. Such was the case at the family Christmas party, when Jake sat on my lap and teased Mindy and Missy Grosvenor. We all had a good laugh with him. They though it was quite funny that he was sitting on my lap, and we all three laughed at the funny things he was saying. This is so typical of Jake, and one of the things that makes people like him.
Jake has really never met anyone he didn’t like. Every time I see him, he puts his arms around me and tells me I am his best friend. I don’t think I am really his best friend, but it’s nice that my grand nephew likes me. When you are the great aunt, you kind of figure that you are just a part of that older generation, and the younger ones really don’t give a lot of thought to the older generation, but Jake has always treated me like he enjoys seeing me, and that makes me feel good…but then that is what Jake was trying to accomplish.
I think Jake is the kind of guy who really likes to have everyone around him be happy. That is probably why he likes to joke around with everyone. Jake figures that if he can bring a smile to someone’s face, then he has accomplished his goal for the day. It’s not a bad way to be…especially when people are feeling down. It takes a special kind of person to work to make people smile, and that is what Jake is like. He doesn’t care if he has to look like a clown to do it either. I think that is what makes Jake special to me. Every time I see him he is upbeat and happy. It’s really cool when people can honestly say that about you. Today is Jake’s birthday. Happy birthday Jake!! Have a great day!! We love you!!
