The Last Baby

I went to St. Louis to spend a summer with my grandparents and my father in 1959. I loved going to my grandparents home even though my grandfather, who always had a cigar in his hand, was a little grumpy. He worked constantly in his flower garden and wanted nothing to interfere with his handiwork. We secretly called him Mr. Wilson after Dennis the Menace's neighbor. My father, who lived with his parents after his tragic motorcycle accident, was a little odd. His idea of summer entertainment was to work algebra problems. My grandmother made up for all their short comings, she loved me for the little skinny southern girl I was and did not expect me to be anything else. All us children heard from our St. Louis grandparents on Christmas and birthdays with special cigar scented cards topped off with cigar scented cash. The smell of cigars always brought fond memories back to me. Once I worked for the Department of Revenue with cigar smoking Mr. Benson. Every one complained about the cigar smell when he entered a room. I wanted to make him feel better about himself so one day I kindly said, "Mr. Benson, you smell just like my dead grandfather". His reply, "How long has he been dead".

Little did we know just how the summer of 1959 would change our lives forever. I thought my momma and little brother Tim went to Iowa to spend the summer with a friend. Momma came to pick me up with a new husband. He was our daddy from the get go. He worked part time at the Strombecker Toy Factory while he was in his last year of chiropractic college and we couldn't wait to see what factory reject he brought home each day. Who cared if the Bill Dings had a paint kick or the doll house furniture had glue drips. Our own father had brought home items such as a Geiger counter, slides of bombs going off, and an occasional parachute. Beside this, daddy Tom didn't yell at us and scare us half to death. Granted we deserved some of the yelling. My brother Bob and I spent all our money at the trick shop purchasing things like trick ink spills and plastic vomit. We almost got our dog Rover killed over the plastic vomit strategically placed on our father's new Air Force uniform. I would like to point out that Bob led the way in the trick department, but I was a willing participant. The other big surprise when we went back to Montgomery was that momma was pregnant! No one knew momma was married much less pregnant. Mr. Moncrief, one of the less tactfull neighbors, asked momma right to her face when the baby was due and then asked when she got married as he proceeded to count to nine on his fingers.

Tommy came in March and Tim had a playmate five years younger. I was much too old to play baby doll as I was in Junior High School. I was big enough, however, to pick him up. With the new daddy and new baby came a move to Georgia. Moving was the worst part of the deal. We were ripped away from all that we knew and held dear. Tommy was a great consolation. We loved him so much if he even looked like he wanted something we got it for him. That being the case, he did not find it necessary to talk. He looked thirsty, we got water. He loved Gerber Jr. Baby Food. He ate it so long that he would go to the cabinet and pick out the dinner he wanted. Momma made him eat from the table when he could open the jar himself. Poor Tommy, it is a wonder he ever survived having siblings. We used to strap him in a rocking chair with a belt around his tummy and he would rock so hard the chair would turn over and he would hit his head on the floor. Tommy has turned out to be a handsome, well adjusted man with tremendous speech capabilities and Tim and I are happy to say carries no sign of cranial damage from the frequent head trauma. We no longer call him our little brother as he is the biggest kid in the family.

Bob, Tim, and I had the momma who never went anywhere and Tommy had the momma that was never home. This change came when square dancing entered her life. She and daddy were do-si-do-ing all over three states. It was good, clean fun which my brother tagged along until he could opt to stay home. Momma, Daddy, and their square dancing friends always stopped off at a Denny's Restaurant after a night of dancing. You would think that all the Denny's were laid out the same. That's what momma and her friends thought when they went rushing in to the restroom with their crinolines flying to wash their hands after an evening of ala-mand-ing left. They saw a woman standing at the sink washing her hands so they all rushed over. They were in the men's room and it was not a woman standing at the sink washing her hands. The poor man turned around mid stream spraying the entire group. I asked momma what they did, she said they screamed and ran out of the restroom. Some where in Georgia there is a man who has had to spend lots of money on therapy in order to use public restrooms again. Needless to say, Tommy never took up square dancing.