Archive | August, 2014

Then She Mama Say

18 Aug

My Daddy really was a rolling stone and when I was a little girl, I’d talk to him on the telephone every night he was on the road. Being the good man he is, he let me tell him the story of the three little kittens hundreds of times. (As you know, they lost their mittens and as such got no pie.) When I got to that part in the story, I would say, “Then she mama say, no pie. No pie!” 

I guess I talked like that because I was little and living in rural Mississippi. I didn’t know any better. Sometimes I still don’t.

I forgot until tonight that I came up with it all on my lonesome. Then she mama say. Sometimes I say it right before I fall asleep or I whisper it to myself after my crazy Yankee mama finishes a rant.

Tonight, I asked him about that little prayer of mine and where it came from. I even Googled it, I said, and I can’t find it anywhere. And he said, don’t you remember? It’s yours. You won’t find it anywhere else. All of a sudden, I was back in that trailer on the rotary phone, talking to my Daddy. It felt like another life because it was. 

 

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