Preface Note: I went almost a WHOLE WEEK without blogging, but I’ve been down with the respiratory flu, Jonah has been having some issues and our laptop got finicky. I had most of this done yesterday in line with the Daily Post Prompt, but my PC died, & I’m not wasting all of my work, so that’s why it’s up today and still including yesterday’s prompt. Also, I apologize ahead of time for SQUIRRELING, I’m on lots of sinus medication 🙂
When the Daily Post pinged into my inbox this morning (okay yesterday since this is published a day late), once again I laughed at the prompt. Chaos. I feel like a photo of my family should just appear under in the dictionary, Wikipedia or Google when that term is searched. So in honor (belatedly) of Mother’s day, we are throwing it BACK to my childhood to help define Chaos. I have touched on this a tad bit in past blogs (Yes…I WAS ‘THAT BAD’, I Didn’t just Drive my PARENTS Crazy…) but we are delving deeper into the whirlpool or insanity, so grab your life-jackets kids, here we goooooooo:
I was the eldest of four girls. Yep, that’s right FOUR GIRLS, but it gets worse. The youngest and I are only 4 years and 11 months apart. YEP, four GIRLS in 4 YEARS!! Not only that, but when I was 5, my parents built a house and had Sexy Grandma move in with us in an in-law suite. Back when SexyG moved in with us she was “only” 69 years old (no I’m not making that number up). About a year and a half later, my grandpa (dad’s dad) died, so my parents built another in-law suite on the OTHER side of the house, and had my dear, sweet AMAZING Grandma Mac move in with us. So just in case you missed it, by the time I was 7 we had SEVEN FEMALES living under our roof, leaving my poor, Saint of a Father as the lone male representative. Heck, even most of the ANIMALS were females, leaving my dad with only our boxer (dog) “Brutus” and Cockatiel (bird) “Corky” to commiserate with. As I have also made ABUNDANTLY clear in previous blogs (My Big Fat SICILIAN Life), my mom’s half of the family, including the oft-referenced “Sexy Grandma” (Life Lessons from My Big SEXY Sicilian Grandma), is VERY Sicilian. So not ONLY do you have seven (*cough* over-emotional, dramatic *cough*) women under the same roof, SIX of them are LOUD, OPINIONATED Sicilians.
Let me reiterate: OOOOH the NOISE!! I have been told by MANY friends that the first time they ever visited our house, if the windows were down in their car, they could hear what was going on inside the house JUST as they turned into the driveway. P.S. Our driveway was almost an ACRE LONG, and that’s when the windows in the were SHUT. One friend said she walked into our home once on a Friday night, expecting to see a murder, or mourning over some dead. Instead she walked in on one of our Friday Night Poker games with Sexy Grandma.
I think my favorite story of “Shock & Awe” was one that one of my mom’s old friend, a “proper English woman” regaled us with. Although being English herself, this friend greatly appreciated Diverse (there’s today’s Daily Post Prompt) ethnicities, especially Italians. They had come down from Vermont and they stopped in to visit us, and she warned her very quiet, shy and sensitive teenage son of the following:
“Now keep in mind, these are ITALIANS we are going to visit… Sicilians Specifically. It’s going to be VERY LOUD and chaotic because they yell most of the time… not just when they are angry like you or I, so brace yourself. And the little ones… they may look Irish with their red hair and pale skin, but they are ITALIAN.”
Apparently I had been harassing Sexy Grandma and not listened to her, so she grabbed a spoon, spanked me so hard that she sent my scrawny, 6 year-old butt sailing across the room, and into the couch (SexyG was probably only in her early 70’s so throwing me across a room wasn’t much of a feat for her)… RIGHT as our friends walked in! Her son was horrified, and even though he was the perfectly mannered gentlemen and knew not to whisper in public), whispered to his mom:
“Mom, she just THREW that child, do Italians THROW their children?”
LOL. OOOH The SPANKING Stories!! As you can tell, there was NO “Spare the Rod, Spoil the Child” in the MacDonald Household. Nope. Sicilians doubled nearly all cooking utensils (or pretty much other blunt ended object within arm’s reach) as butt blushers, or knuckle knockers if you disrespected your elders. And guess WHO was the main “enforcer” in the house? Oh come ON, you all KNOW, but if you just landed in my insane Blogosphere, I’ll give you a hint:
To show you the kind of shape she was in, she taught us girls how to play baseball, and chased us around the house to beat us. One thing you have to know about Sexy Grandma, EVERY time she was punishing a child, (i.e. “spanking, beating, spooning, belting”, or whichever term you approve of) she would LAUGH MANIACALLY!! The good thing is that as she got older, the more she laughed, her tiny eyes would shut, and she couldn’t see to beat us, so we could throw a pillow on our legs and fake cry and get away with more 🙂
I was going to go on about several aspects about our childhood… being tomboys, having 4 PUBESCENT and 1 Menopausal females in one home… but AHHHH Sexy Grandma is TAKING OVER MY BLOG AGAIN!! In fact this over medicated whirlpool of my chaotic childhood has already spun out of control so I will will save the other chaotic incidents for other blogs… when I can am less medicated and not distracted by small sick people craving my attention. Until next time remember: compared to us, you ARE normal. Now JUST go SHAVE your LEGS!!