World of Julie

World of Julie

Mom on the edge.

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Well come on, it’s not like we’re the Collier Brothers or anything.

Henry had homework over Thanksgiving vacation: to decorate a large felt gingerbread man any way that he saw fit. (Because as you know it’s the start of the gingerbread man unit — have you all sent in your postcards?) He drew a very detailed bakery background, glued the gingerbread man on, and glued on raisins and Cheerios for eyes and buttons. That was the Tuesday before Thanksgiving. Then I never saw it again. On Sunday I said something about how we had to find it (it was due on Monday) and then I completely forgot about it. I finally remembered on Wednesday morning, and unearthed the gingerbread man from Henry’s Project Pile. The raisins and Cheerios had fallen off at some point (those will be fun to find later), so we hastily glued some more on, and Henry decided he needed to make paper pants too. (And I discovered, I think, that Mod Podge is not the best glue for sticking raisins on to felt. But it didn’t seem like a good time — 10 minutes before school started — to go on a Hunt for Better Glue).

I carried the still-drying gingerbread man to school, and handed him to Henry’s teacher, who said, “Oh! I’m glad you found it! Henry told me it was probably lost in some pile in your house somewhere!” So HA HA HA now we know that Henry’s teacher thinks we have the kind of house with so many unkempt piles that you can lose large school projects in them and — oh. Feh. We do, don’t we?

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3 Responses to “Well come on, it’s not like we’re the Collier Brothers or anything.”

  1. 1
    Emily:

    My mom still tells this story with a certain amount of fresh outrage/embarrassment: I was told to draw a family portrait in for a school project early on, showing each family person doing something they would normally do, and evidently I drew mom WATCHING TV. This is when we didn’t HAVE a TV (well, had one, black and white, that lived under a windowseat and had to be hauled out to watch important occasions like moon landings and such…but it was never, ever watched in the daytime, or really ever in my presence). She was so mad (she tells me…she kept it pretty well in at the time). Like I’d drawn her with a flask of whiskey and a cigarette, seducing our aging across-the-street neighbor. I’ve tried and tried, but I don’t know what I was thinking in my 6 year old brain..maybe I was trying to fit in? Or had run out of ideas? Or didn’t know HOW to draw my mom, you know, quilting or sculpting or walking way too fast or playing paddle tennis…all the images I have of her from then, just being so BUSY and making cool stuff. So, ah: TV!

  2. 2
    Julie:

    Oh, that is such a great Emily story! Love it. I can totally understand your mom’s outrage, too.

    I think my favorite Emily child story is still the one where they told you to clean your room and you were all mad and they found you hiding in a closet writing out “WIRCK IS NOT GOOD” in huge letters (I might be mixing stories here? were you in the closet?) on a giant piece of paper.

  3. 3
    Emily:

    Oh yeah, I you’re right – I think I was bolder than that, though: not in closet but rather wrote the note and split, down to the beach or out to the backyard… My mother, of course, has this note framed and on prominant display in her house. And considering that I have a phone meeting for which I still have work to do at 11am, but am here instead, shows that I, evidently, still ascribe to my earlier philosophy. Back to wirck, Emily!

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