Wednesday, February 19, 2014

Curiousity of Mothers


I well remember at four years old my mother warning me not to put my hand in the roller of the ringer washing machine, even then an antique of sorts.  No sooner had she left the room than the fascination of those rollers began calling my name.  I remember reaching my hand up tentatively and whoosh, I don’t remember the terror or the screaming but I am sure I must have felt and done both.  My hand was immediately stuck and being pulled upwards in the roller.  The machine did not have an automatic release (which they later had) so my hand just kept going while I tried to pull out of it.  To this day I have the scars on my right hand and a crooked index finger.

Zip forward some 50 years or so and I find myself compelled to write little notes to my mother.

“Mom, don’t touch the instrument on the counter, it is sharp.”

Yes, today my mother cut her finger on a contraption that she did not recognize.  It happened to be an apple corer which I had used to cut up an apple for my lunch.  I left it on the counter with the core still sticking up.  My poor mother’s cataract must really be severe (and she is still resisting having it looked after) because she thought she was looking at a peculiar candle holder! 

If this keeps up I am going to have to hide all sharp objects!  At least she hasn’t really hurt herself yet so right now there’s a little fun in discovering what mischief she gets into while I am at work.  I hope the charm doesn’t escalate into deeper anxiety.  If so, I have her instructions to put her out of her misery.  As if I could ever do that!

No comments:

Post a Comment