The Shelf

The Shelf

A fun memory came to me as I was eating some fajita grilled vegetables at lunch today and a small speck of the oil splashed on my very white shirt. Dan said, “Uh, oh- you got it on your shelf!”, and we both cracked up. My mother and her oldest sister, my beloved Aunt Sara, had a running joke as they aged about their propensity to spill food on the bosom area of their blouses (they also had jokes about needing a ‘fork-ed stick’ to hold up said bosom area). Mom got so bad about it in her last years, that my Aunt Lila crafted several special bibs for her made from kitchen towels that she would tie around her neck at meal time. She would still manage somehow to stain most every blouse she owned. Some of my favorite spills happened at the Sonic drive-in, as Mom would eat her large chocolate shake with a spoon and inevitably spill some on her blouse. She would giggle, look at me and say, “Uh, oh, Neese- I got it on my shelf!”, and we would laugh and laugh as I tried to help her clean up the spill. I am now officially my mother’s daughter….and I could almost hear her giggle when it happened.

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