Thursday, July 16, 2009
AUNT JEANNE AND THE DISH
"Aunt Jeanne, now you and Uncle Joe go out, have a nice dinner and don't worry about a thing. I am an experienced babysitter and I will call if I need to. I can certainly manage to keep the lid on your house for a few hours. I feel so honored that you trust me to babysit these eight cousins of mine.
Bye, bye Uncle Joe. Aunt Jeanne, you look so pretty tonight. Enjoy yourselves!
Hey, kids, look what your mother left us for dinner, a very big lasagna in a very big, beautiful white and blue casserole dish. Lots of mmmm’s bellowed and my stomach grumbled. You know, I've seen those commercials where you can take a frozen casserole meal in such an expensive Corning piece and pop it right into a hot oven. That’s what I’m going to do. Here goes, from freezer to hot oven, 375 degrees. With your mother's doings and even though I’m only twelve, I can show you all that I can make a delicious meal.
Hmmm...it's been nearly a half hour so I'd better see how our supper is doing. Let me take a peek.
Oh my golly gee!!! The casserole dish did not do like those on TV do. I think I’m going to faint. The dish cracked into thick, angular white chards. I've ruined our meal and destroyed your mother’s indestructible dish. What will she and your dad say or do to me? My knees are knocking. Can you hear them?
Come and eat, kids. Sorry there'll be no lasagna tonight. Oh, please quit your moaning. (I forgot what I actually did serve those charming charges of mine.) I must put this catastrophe behind me and act like nothing happened. And, mum’s the word, too. Do not squeal on me, guys. I hope your mother and father won't be mad at me. Oh dearie, and what if they don’t pay me for my night's work?
Okay- I've settled down now. Mess cleaned. See how nice and shiny I made your oven? All back to normal.
Everybody, it’s time to turn off the TV and come in the house now. Clean up and get to bed.
Whew, I feel rather worn out. Let me sit here on this comfortable barco lounge chair for a few minutes and see if I.....schnorrrr---
Just a minute, I'm awake. Let me open the door for you. Did you have a good time?
Boy, Uncle Joe, I'm ready for you to take me home now. It’s been a long night. No, no, stop. You don't have to pay me. I enjoyed this evening so much and the kids were so well-behaved. Ummm, okay, I'll take the money this time. Thank you very much for the job.
Oh no, no, nothing's wrong...everything went fine. It's just that my fingers sometimes tremble a little when I get tired."
It was a quiet ride home in Uncle Joe's truck. â€I loved how he chuckled. And, the twinkle in his eyes and the dimple in his masculine chin never ceased to fascinate me.
I am now 62 years old. Not once did Aunt Jeanne or Uncle Joe mention that costly mishap. They surely had seen the defrosted evidence in the trash. It was a negative financial proposition for them that night.
As I would often do, I paid Aunt Jeanne a visit many years later, always with memories of that special night glued into my memory. We would sit at her cozy kitchen table. She would make me hot tea and manage a sweet treat or two. I sopped up each word of her detailed stories or her editorializing of current events, both of which left me gasping in the dust. As time would have it, I did become an adult. I mustered up the courage to broach that subject with her. It felt like I was a child in a confessional and she was there to hear my sins. I briefly told her about that night, focusing on her Corning dish and how those commercials are not to be believed. Certainly I was not the one to blame. And, in an effort to brag about my babysitting competency that night, I laughed and told her that the roof of her house didn’t cave in either. She quizzically smiled with a twinkle in her well-seasoned eyes. I didn't have to say another word and neither did she. We knew that my confession and her silent acceptance would be all that was required. Of course, she knew that when the time was right, I would have eventually confessed to her. At last, I did. The weight was lifted.
We settled back into our deliciously serpentine conversation.
Aunt Jeanne was a loving, intelligent and intuitive spirit. I will always hold her as a precious treasure in my heart.
And, I will forever reflect on that fateful night, also with a twinkle in my eye.
