Every summer after my parents divorced, if my dad was single, my brother and I knew to expect a new wife, a new house and new furniture when we got off the plane.
My dad's second wife was crazy. Her name was Cathy, and if you ask my dad about her today, he will fain ignorance or brain damage. He met her at a coffee shop at the airport. I am not sure what he was thinking really. Well, I do. He could not be alone. It is as simple as that.
I am not sure how the courtship went, but when Bill and I came home at the end of the summer when I was nine, and Bill was seven, Dad met us with a skinny, kinda trashy, blonde who wore way too much make-up. She was nine years younger than my dad. She grabbed my brother and kissed him on the cheek, smearing peachy lipstick along his jaw. She turned to me, but I was halfway down the terminal, heading into baggage claim. I knew my way around the airport, having traveled since I was two and come to work with my father ever since I could remember.
My dad had waited for us to return in order to have the ceremony. First, we had to move to a different house, in a different city, buying all new furniture, and a new car. Oh yeah, and we had to get rid of my french poodle, Monique. I hated this woman more than my father at the moment. Then the other shoe dropped. Bill and I were to call her mommy. I already had a Mommy. I declared war on this woman. Little did I know my dad had married a nut job.
My dad's second wife was crazy. Her name was Cathy, and if you ask my dad about her today, he will fain ignorance or brain damage. He met her at a coffee shop at the airport. I am not sure what he was thinking really. Well, I do. He could not be alone. It is as simple as that.
I am not sure how the courtship went, but when Bill and I came home at the end of the summer when I was nine, and Bill was seven, Dad met us with a skinny, kinda trashy, blonde who wore way too much make-up. She was nine years younger than my dad. She grabbed my brother and kissed him on the cheek, smearing peachy lipstick along his jaw. She turned to me, but I was halfway down the terminal, heading into baggage claim. I knew my way around the airport, having traveled since I was two and come to work with my father ever since I could remember.
My dad had waited for us to return in order to have the ceremony. First, we had to move to a different house, in a different city, buying all new furniture, and a new car. Oh yeah, and we had to get rid of my french poodle, Monique. I hated this woman more than my father at the moment. Then the other shoe dropped. Bill and I were to call her mommy. I already had a Mommy. I declared war on this woman. Little did I know my dad had married a nut job.
No comments:
Post a Comment