Two Funny Stories

For some reason, I have been thinking of two funny things that happened to me in my childhood. They've been replaying in my mind for a little more than a week now. I don't know why they popped into my mind, but they've become some sort of encouragement to me about the person I am. I'm relating it all to my soon-to-be-launched business, Supermom's Health and Wellness. Maybe my life experiences are coming back into my consciousness in order to cheer me along my way, reminding me that I have always been a gal that can roll with the punches and come out alright on the other side.

I wish I could tell you these stories complete with tone of voice and facial expression, but hopefully you can manage to be amused without that added treat.

Story #1 Farm Fresh Eggs
There was this old farm house that we passed every now and then when I was about 12 years old. There was a sign out by the road that said "Farm Fresh Eggs." One day my mother and I were driving along and mom decided we should stop in and buy some eggs. We had never been there before since we were new to the area, and I guess that day was as good as any to get our hands on some *Farm Fresh* eggs.

So, we pull up to the house and my mom hands me some money and tells me to go to the door and get 2 dozen eggs. (My mother has a long history of making me go to the doors of unfamiliar people. She made me go borrow a cup of sugar and all that kind of thing probably since I was old enough to walk myself over to the neighbor's house. I figured out early on that she was a chicken to go do it herself, but she'd always laugh and say she was helping to train me to be able to talk to people. It worked!)

So I go up to the side door of this house and knock-knock-knock. It was a sceen door that wasn't even latched shut, so it was kind of bouncing open a bit with each knock. I could see right into the living room. Everything was kind of dark and quiet in there. It didn't even really seem like anybody was home, but I figured someone had to be there or else their door would be closed and locked.

So, I stood there and knocked some more. And then I heard some sounds of life. Just some quiet shuffle-shuffle of feet and maybe a newspaper being turned or something. So, I kept knocking at polite little intervals, and also added in some of those do-you-notice-me fake coughs.

Meanwhile, my mom is sitting in the car looking at me, mouthing "What's going on? Is anybody there?" and I am standing on the porch of this farmhouse shrugging my shoulders.

A few minutes later a man approx. 50-60 years old comes shuffling along through the living room of this house, coming past the door where I am knocking. When he saw me he looked kind of surprised and slightly alarmed, which made me think that he hadn't even heard me knocking, and was just happening to walk past the door. He stops in his tracks and grunts something to me which I optimistically interpreted as something like, "Hello!" or "Can I help you?" So, I bravely said, "Hello! I'd like to buy some Farm Fresh Eggs!"

Now, don't ask me *why* I felt the need to specify that I was wanting the *Farm* *Fresh* eggs, because I have no idea. I wasn't brought up specifying Garden Fresh Peas or Orchard Fresh Apples or any such thing. I guess that sign in front of their house just really stuck in my head. "I'm gonna go get me some FARM FRESH Eggs! Yessirree!"

So, this man looks at me, grunts again, and shuffles off to what appeared to be the kitchen.

And then I waited. Because, you know, I figured he was off getting those fresh eggs for me.

And I waited some more. And my mom is still sitting in the car mouthing, "What's going on? What's happening?" and I am standing there shrugging and making that just-one-minute finger gesture, because of course that man was going to come right back with those eggs we were after.

And, after waiting some more, I decided I'd have to knock again. So, knock-knock-knock. And I waited some more.

After too many more minutes to be normal, here comes the man again, this time shuffling by from the opposite direction, and he's not carrying any eggs. Once again he sees me, looks surprised and slightly alarmed, and grunts at me. So, what do I do? I go with his apparent theory that he's never seen me before.

"Hello! I'd like to buy some Farm Fresh Eggs...?"

And he looks at me, grunts, and walks away.

And so I'm standing there trying to figure out, "What's a girl to do? Is he going to get me the eggs or what?"

My mom rolled down her window to get a progress report and I went over to the car to explain the strange interaction I had just had. She basically started cackling as only my mother can do (when she really gets going you can hear it in a tri-state area) and I think I went back to the door to try some more.

I don't really remember how many more times the man walked by, looked surprised and alarmed, grunted and walked away, but eventually I got the picture that I was *not* going to get any Farm Fresh Eggs out of him. So we drove away eggless with my mother cackling so hard it's a wonder she could drive safely, and forevermore when we could drive by that house she would go blank-faced and grunt at me, and then say in a perky voice, "Hello! I'd like to buy some Farm Fresh Eggs!"

As it turns out, we ended up getting to know the people that lived in that house. If my memory is correct, I believe that the man I saw was somehow mentally handicapped and was home alone. Needless to say, he wasn't the one that normally served the egg customers.

Story #2: Four Foot Eleven
When I was a little girl I went to this Wednesday night program at my church called Pioneer Girls. It was basically a church version of Girl Scouts. You had badges to earn and projects to do, camp to go to, and so on. One year when I was maybe 10 years old we were working on a Grandparents Badge, and we were organizing a special night where we invited our grandparents to come, we had special refreshments, and we were supposed to come prepared to do some sort of talent for them. Seeing as how I thought I was the world's greatest sing-along-with-the-record child singer, I decided to sing one of my current favorites, a song called "Four Foot Eleven" by Evie. (Evie was my favorite for many years. I even continued to think Evie was cool until I was in 7th grade and I actually invited a neighbor boy over to listen to my "cool music" one day. You should have seen his face! He was a big Police fan, so little old Evie wasn't exactly his style.)

Now, this story would be funny enough just imaging me (already about 5'2") singing Four Foot Eleven (a bit of the lyrics: "I'm only 4 foot eleven but I'm goin' to heaven and that makes me feel 10 feet tall!") along to a *record* for the grandparents. But, wait! There's more!

When it got to be my turn to sing I turned on my record and started singing away.....but, Houston, we had a problem! The record player was dying, so the record started playing v-e-r-y s-l-o-w-l-y. What's a girl to do in a situation like this? Well, I certainly wasn't going to burst into tears! I wasn't going to sit down in the middle of my song and be all embarrassed! No sirree--The Show Must Go On! So, I did what any thinking-on-her-feet kind of girl would do. I quickly sauntered over to the ailing record player, and used my finger to speed it up! Now, let me tell you, it isn't all that easy to find just the right speed for your finger to go when you are trying to sing along with a record. But, somehow I managed it. I stood there, with my finger propelling my Evie record round and round, singing away to "Four Foot Eleven" and if I recall correctly, I got some great feedback from the grandparents about how I dealt with my problem.



So, all of that to say, Supermom's is launching this week and I'm really excited about it. I know there will probably be some tricky moments along the way, but I'm reminding myself that I'm a Can-Do kind of gal from way-back-when. It should be an exciting ride. :)

Also, special recognition to Suzy Q's husband for the cracks about the Garden Fresh Peas and Orchard Fresh Apples. He came up with that when I was telling them my little story.

AND, last but not least, I just found a site with Evie's records! Now I'm thinking Evie tunes left and right, and I just want to say, I STILL LIKE EVIE! If you've got some old Evie music that you want to donate to me, just let me know. I'd love to get my hands on those tapes and records--quite a few years of my life were lived out with those songs playing in the background. I'm off to look on half.com and ebay to see what I can find!