- If I go back to the time when I was a nine year old, struggling Irish step dancer in the Bronx, I can still hear my then best friend's father saying, "Come on now, Kelly. Kick that leg higher. Straighten that back. Watch my Peggy. She'll show you how it is done." I didn't have that whole dance competition drive in me. I was usually thinking about the cookies staring at me from their dining room table. By the way, you should have seen Peggy's legs. They were solid, strong, and muscular. If she was a wrestler, she could make anyone submit with a leg hold. When we played kickball as girls, I would duck when she kicked the ball. I'm all into that self-preservation thing. That powerful kick would've knocked me right off my feet and probably into the street. My weak legs probably exasperated her dad when we practiced dancing. She was a stallion in Irish dance. I was maybe a mule? You know, it's funny that a mule came to mind. I feel like a mule around here when I'm carrying things all day. Now if I could be a mule with great legs...
- I miss my one of a kind Uncle Bob who would call me Annie and tell us stories of his adventures as a NYC taxicab driver. One time, he had a particularly abrasive woman who complained about his driving, the cab, the weather, etc. Now my Uncle Bob used to also get into a brawl or two in his younger days and still had that fire in his belly as she pushed and pushed at him. During this long, long ride with this not so friendly passenger, my Uncle stopped on the side of the Brooklyn Bridge and said, "Listen lady. Either we can get through this ride quickly and quietly or you can get out and walk this bridge to wherever." Well, she did quiet down and I think she gave him a good tip too.
- When I was sixteen and looking for work, I couldn't get hired at McDonald's. I had to go 45 minutes away by bus to get my first job for $3.35 an hour working at a supermarket in a rich neighborhood. That little bit of Uncle Bob would grumble within me when I had some of those complaining ladies at my register. You should have seen the glares that I would get when I struggled to remember a produce code for the register. That was before scanners and I had a little book to use for reference. I was apologetic, but some of those ladies had no problem letting me know that I was wasting their time. That experience always reminds me to be patient in stores and remember that most store employees are really trying their best.
- I started taking French classes at 7 years old. Loved French from then on and through college. I have to make time to brush up on those rusty skills. My son is taking Italian now and does very well. I'm happy to see that he shares my love for languages.
- When Jillian was born, she was an instant screamer. When the hospital pediatrician came in to check on her in my room, he handed the baby to my husband because the screaming was too intense. Jillian continued to scream with my husband until I hobbled out of the bathroom still labor-weary, and she quieted down. At her christening, she also screamed so loud that I had to go into that closed off "keep the kids quiet" room and nurse her. The deacon who was officiating just gave me that look which says, "I can't go on with this disruption. Do something." When Jillian gets mad at her brothers, that high pitch scream can resurface. The boys get all dramatic and say things like, "Geez, can she stop being so loud?" I tease them and say, "Remember to keep the women in your life happy, or you'll hear it." My son said back to me once, "I'm staying a bachelor."
Thursday, November 4, 2010
A little trivia about me
Let me see if I can share some interesting tidbits with you.