I am not allowed to pick my in-laws. I have pondered this long and hard, and I have come to accept it.
I AM allowed to PICK ON my in-laws. I have pondered this long and hard, and I have come to accept it.
And now. . .
I will begin.
I have only one sister, and she is extra special, therefore, some day, she will get her own post. I have many sisters-in-law on my Hunni’s side, and they can officially, from this moment forward, begin worrying about what I will write about them. I have three sisters-in-law on my side of the family, and today, I will introduce them to you.
He (my oldest brother) married Her, and had Them.
He (my youngest brother) married Her, and had Them.
He (not my brother) married Her (not my sister) and had Them. I call her my sister-in-law because she is family (came to live with us at 15), got married in my parents yard, and most of all because She knows me very, very, very well, and still likes me and hath bestowed the biggest honor on me by allowing her kids to call me Aunt Rebecca.
And here are all of the Thems in descending order.
Now part of the fun of having a blog is getting to give everybody on the blog a moniker. When I was oh, about 8 or 9, I loved the book, “Flicka, Dicka, and Ricka” by Maj Lindman about “Three girls who lived in Sweden who had blue eyes, and yellow curls, and that looked very much alike.” Once on an educational steam train ride, my sister, my second-double cousin (yes, there is such a thing), and I were mistaken for triplets. Considering the gene pool and our matching corduroy pants and turtle necks (late 70’s), it was very plausible. We lied and said that we were “Flicka, Dicka, and Ricka” and were “having a grand train adventure.” Now as much as I would like to give my three sisters-in-law the monikers of Flicka, Dicka, and Ricka, I fear that they would never talk to me again, nor invite me over to their houses where I love to raid their refrigerators for delicious food. And remember, I am a BIG lover of food. (Note: The adjective “BIG” is not referring to my size. Just wanted to make that very, very, clear.)
So I am forced to think and come up with my own names. (insert evil chuckle here.)
I chose Lily for her. Mainly because Calla Lilies are my favorite flower in the whole wide word, and also because of the title of Psalm 45. So Meet Calla Lily–or Lily for short.
Lily could have her own cooking show. She’s that good. Lily also gives me good advice. Like when I was asking her about a newborn’s sleep/eat schedule. Lily said, “Just survive. After three months come and talk to me again.” Or when I was embarrassed that my three year old was still on a bottle. I asked her how to take the bottle away. She said, “If you are just taking the bottle away because you are worried about what people will think, that is not a good reason. If you can give me a better one, then I will tell you.” Words of wisdom from a mom of four boys.
Now if I were to continue with the Flicka, Dicka, and Ricka mind-set, I would then name the next two sisters-in-law, Lily, Silly, and Frilly, and although Silly fits quite well, Frilly doesn’t. So I will once again have to think. Maybe I should continue with the flower theme. If I were to do that, I would have to choose Delphinium, because they are the same beautiful blue of her eyes. However, that could get shorten to Delfi, which would in turn cause people to think of the Oracle at Delfi, who in turn was a toothless hag, so I will have to think some more.
I choose the french word for a female friend–amie. As she really is an amie. Thanks mon Amie (my friend) for being une amie (a friend). Meet Mon Amie–or Amie for short.
Mon Amie, had great taste in everything–clothes, home decor, food, and friends (i.e. I am referring to moi.) Amie is a true blue friend (as true as her gorgeous eyes are blue) and sticks up for me even when my hair is sticking up. I always have fun with Amie. Words of wisdom from mon Amie are, “Eat dessert first.”
Ah Ha! Now on to the third victim. Since I am into the foreign language thing, how about giving her a Spanish name–as that is her heritage. I choose Graciela, which means “the favored or blessed one” in Spanish as she has been blessed with a great husband and two kids. Hola, Graciela, I hope you like your nuevo nombre.
Graciela and I go back farther than my other two sisters-in-law–about 10 years farther. We were Young People together and many of our friends overlapped. Our days as Young People included haunting graveyards, hanging out at the overhead Bridge, four-wheeler rides, hymn sings, road trips, swimming in the pond, ice skating on the pond, and 101 other country girl activities–except cow tipping. We never went cow tipping. Graciela is gracious–a true lady. Thanks for sticking with me all these years.
And now that the introductions are over let me reiterate to my Hunni’s sisters, that regardless of whether you are wearing rubber boots, dancing shoes, sensible shoes, cowboy boots, or cozy house slippers, you can begin shaking in them. Because what I don’t know I will make up and “embellish with great detail.” I believe this poem by Jack Prelutsky was written about me.
I’m Quentin Quimble Quamble Quayle,
an unrepentant tattletale,
repeating all I hear and see. . .
your secrets are not safe with me.
I recommend that you take care
of what you say when I am there.
Be cognizant of all you do,
I’m furtively observing you.
I’m Quentin Quimble Quamble Quayle,
I blab whenever I exhale,
on absolutely anyone. . .
it’s how I choose to have my fun.
If I’m around, it surely means
that I will shortly spill the beans,
and anything you iterate
I’m certain to regurgitate.
My ears are keen, my ways are sly,
I sneak, I spy, I snoop, I pry.
You cannot trust me with a word,
I’ll blurt out every word I’ve heard.
I even take it in my head
to broadcast things you never said,
embellishing with great detail . . .
I’m Quentin Quimble Quamble Quayle.
Good Night all,
your host, Quentin Quimble Quamble Quayle.
P.S. If you want to read some more of Jack Prelutsky’s poems, my favorite book is below. You can order it on Amazon by clicking on the blue link below for about $8.00. You and your kiddos will like his poems. And if you like the sweet Swedish genre, you’ll love the “Flicka, Ricka, and Dicka” series available for about $7.00 each–just click on the blue link below.
Flicka, Ricka, Dicka Bake a Cake
A Pizza the Size of the Sun