Sunday Traditions... A Story for my Sunday Tradition
From the time i was very little my parents always went on picnics in the fall. my mother and sisters cooked a nice meal and we would all pile into Daddy's truck. Most of us on the back, but one kid was always chosen to ride up front with them. Never, me... but Jenny, Iris or Frank (Marcie's son.) i never felt sad about this, because i had a BALL on the back of that truck.Vanessa and i would sing silly songs like Annie Mae and The Hotdog Man. Iris and i would play clubfist or the alphabet game and Jenny or Frank and i would have tickle wars. There were also times when Marcie went along, and she would always have me sit between her legs and play with my hair. i sucked up this positive loving touch greedily. It was heaven.We would drive around the mountains until we found a likely spot. Then everyone would pile out. We would feast on the delicious food, and the grownups would sit around and talk while the kids ran around playing. We could be as loud and rambunctious as we wanted on these outings. Then my Mama would tell a story. She always weaved a magical new story. And we would sit rapt and listen to her while the men cleared up. And, then, finally we would climb back into the truck. Usually by the time we got home all the kids were asleep, except me. They would be carried in and i would go take my bath,reliving the day in my mind.
