Mostly whimsy and drivel of no consequence. And CHEESE.
Until I discover the possibly serious ramifications of this, let us keep my forthcoming revelation on the QT (why in the hell DOES that mean “in secrecy”? Apparently it is derived from “qui vive,” but as far as I can tell , that translates literally to “who lives.” So it’s a secret why “on the QT” means “in secrecy”). Oh yes – the revelation:
I believe my Mother has an unnatural and subconscious
fear of the number “five.”
This was evidenced yesterday in a collage she made (of shoes) that I was to scan and send to my sister-in-law, Julianne, so she could replace her cancelled catalog Christmas present (as I’ve mentioned several times, since my Mother is the catalog shopper extraordinaire of the UNIVERSE, sometimes you only get a little cut-out picture of your back-ordered holiday gift, or you have to choose an alternate gift because they ran out of…whatever it is they run out of). At first glance, you think there are eight shoe choices. Upon closer examination, however, there is NO NUMBER FIVE. One, two, three, four, SIX, seven, eight. I asked my mother about this and she honestly had no idea why she’d omitted number five. This could be serious. I am one of five children. My Mother has five grand-children. Everyone in this family has five digits on each arm and leg.
All I can say to my siblings and my nieces and nephews is GUARD YOUR LIVES AND YOUR DIGITS. MOM/GRANDMA MAY BE OUT TO GET NUMBER FIVE!
As far as the children go, the logical choice would be ME. My Mother is undeniably the most generous and patient person on this Earth, but still waters run DEEP. Perhaps she’s reached a breaking point…