Tears of a clownRead Now
By the time Liza and I got home from our marsupial moment we were wax versions of Gretchen and Penelope oozing out onto the driveway leaving a mirage of ourselves in every step. I dripped to the house and up to top of the stairs desperately trying to free myself from my clothing on the way. Stairs and undressing are a bad combo. . Memories of the pool. My hair was again stuck in my shirt and my pant leg with twisted back around my kneecaps
"Help!! Air! "Liza found me splayed on foyer flailing. Mostly gasping.
Liza was of quick help peeling me out of my sticky ensemble as she was raised in the spit on the wash cloth wipe your face - the band aid off with the scab- zip hoods into chins and if it doesn't fit use a hanger or a stapler school of dressing. So she snapped my shirt off and did that groovey one hand bra snap. Snaps ndeed! Free free at last!!
But three was more than one snap. Both our heads spun to look at poor Ethyl.
Wow. Not right at all.
Lumpy. White hard swollen pulled so tight. I could see - Peter Paul and Mary really were killing her.. She was so sweaty and I think possibly crying. I know I was. I gently coaxed her from trying to hide in my belly button. We turned to snuggle into Liza.
"Ew. Get off of me. You smell like boobie cheese!""
She waddled us into the shower and walked away. I think mine and Ethyl's tears were louder than the spray. Myrtle slipped into my armpit to give Ethyl and I little one on one time with the poof and the Irish Spring. That and I think she was embarrassed that I was still wearing pants. I turned to look in the mirror something I do quite often. Not as a habit of vanity but one of self talk.
My mother allways said " No matter where you go - there you are. Now look at yourself and love yourself. Just the way you are. I do"
I could't help but sob. And laugh. And sob. I am a mess. We are a mess. I made a giant soap bubble nose for myself and pasties for the girls. I put the pouf on my head pulled my wet pants up mom style and stuck the girls nipple to nipple on the steamed glass shower stall. Ta das!
"Well mom. Here I am. One cancer ridden clown!"
Ethyl pried her face off of Myrtle spat off the bubbles and in a rare moment spoke. ( she usually sings broadway Merman style )
"Ummm before you go completely off the rails - and before I get hacked off - do you think I could have a picture. A proper picture - because if this is my last memory of myself - a lot more than sun shine and roses are going to be coming up.. and perhaps out your nose."
I wiped away the soap and the snot.
"As you wish Ethy. I will get Liza to call Suzi. Right now I have to get my pants off and the soap out of my eye. - and maybe call my therapist. Or a circus."
"Ummmm Kelly? Stop talking. Even Myrtle - who by the way is turning blue - thinks you should."
" Yes. Of course."
Always listen to your boobs before you become one.
12/5/2014 01:54:54 am
Kelly, met you last evening with Mike Mulvenna and I have to say that your truly inspirational. Your upbeat personality and the way you can make people laugh, even all the while going through your struggles is truly amazing. I hope to meet you again as I would be a lucky person to be able to call you friend.
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