Saran Wrap - At times when I see it. I am reminded of my Aunt Naomi.
When we were kids, my sisters and I yammered and argued when we sit in the back seat on the way to visit our dear Aunty Naomi in Jasonville.
“She’s family,” my father would say.
Her fruit and scroll garland printed settee, chair and ottoman were all covered with plastic. Even the accent ruffled pillows were wrapped in plastic. The lampshades were covered with yellowing plastic wrap.
In all the years of visiting, our family never touched anything directly but plastic. I never once felt comfortable in her house. There was an unspoken rule about visitors and fingerprints. I never once touched her coffee table. Even our parents arranged their bodies on the couch so that they never touched the furniture.
When she opened the door, “Have a seat,” she would say. Sweating away inside her non air-conditioned house was terrible. We couldn’t even squirm around on the plastic. In this heat, once your legs were planted – they stuck.
In the living room I was worried about my legs being permanently attached to her plastic covered chairs. My sisters and I always left the house thankful that we still had skin.
Life was never cleaner or quieter at Aunt Naomi’s house. In the town of Jasonville who could want more? My sisters and I sat there on the couch until Daddy would finally say “We should get going.”
Earlier today in my kitchen my nephew kept poking a hole in Saran Wrap making a noise. “He’s family” my father would have said.
I’m just grateful that my nephew feels comfortable in my house.
Nancee Harrison is a past columnist for the Greene County Daily World. Visit www.blondeladywithdarkroots.com or email her at email@example.com or send comments to Nancee, Daily World, box 129 Linton IN 47441.