Bombeck - Family: The Ties That Bind-: and Gag!
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- Book:Family: The Ties That Bind-: and Gag!
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FAMILY-
The Ties That Bind:..
and Gag!
Also by Errna Bombeck
At Wit's End
Just Wait Till You Have Children of Your Own!
I Lost Everything in the Post-Natal Depression
The Grass Is Always Greener over the Septic Tank
If Life Is a Bowl of CherriesWhat Am I Doing in the Pits?
Aunt Erma's Cope Book: How to Get from Monday to Friday ... in 12 Days
Motherhood-.The Second Oldest Profession
FAMILY-
The Ties That Bind
and Gag!
ERMA BOMBECK
McGraw-Hill Book Company
New York St. Louis San Francisco . Toronto Hamburg Mexico
Copyright 1987 by Erma Bombeck. All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. Except as permitted under the Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced or distributed in any form or by any means or stored in a data base or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 D O C D O C 87
ISBN 0-07-006460-l
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA
Bombeck, Erma. '
Family: the ties that bindarid gag!
1. FamilyAnecdotes, facetiae, satire, etc
I. Title.
HQ734.B685 1987 306.8'5 87-3277
ISBN 0-07-006460-1
Some material in this book is based on material that has appeared elsewhere in another form.
BOOK Dl.HK.N IIV KATIIHVN 1'AHISK
TO BILL BOMBECK:
WHO HAD DEFINITE IDEAS
OF THE CONCEPTION OF THESE CHARACTERS LONG BEFORE I HAD IDEAS OF PUTTING THEM INTO A BOOK.
CONTENTS
The Fami]y: 1936 1
The Family: 1987 5
Trust Me ... I'm Your Mother11
You're Not Sick ... You're Irregular 18
Mom, We'll Take Care of Him23
The Gospel of the Utilities ... According to Dad28
The Family That Eats Together ... Gets Indigestion 33
Who Killed the Home-Cooked McMeal?42
Technology's Coming ... Technology's Coming48
'No Pests?' I Thought It Said 'No Pets' 53
You Should Have Gone Before You Left Home58
The Ides Of May65
'You'll Never Guess Who This Is"72
For Better or for WorseBut Not for Lunch77
A Child's Bathroom Is His Castle84
But Dad ... It's a Classic!89
Mom and Dad! I'm Home!96
Mommie and Daddie Dearest!101
The Family That Plays Together ... Shouldn't107
A Waltons' Christmas113
Don't Worry ... I'll Manage 122
The Greed Cycle128
What Kind of Children Would Bring Parents into This World?131
What Are Friends For?139
It's 11 O'clock. Do You Know Where Your Parents Are?146
You Look Wonderful"149
If a Home Is a Man's Castle ... Let Him Clean It 156
I Want Your Job, Vanna 161
Can We Talk?164
Are We Talking Meaningful Yet? 171
Good Night ... Whoever You Are ... 176
Say Good Night, Gracie 177
Running Away from Home 183
Alone at Last 189
The Dream196
THE FAMILY:
1936
It was the best of times.
I had my own watch, a tricycle, and a clip-on Shirley Temple hair ribbon that covered the entire right side of my head. My mother wore an apron and silk stockings and baked every day. She looked like Betty Crocker looked before her face-lift, pierced ears and junk to make her hair fat.
The family ... all four of us ... sat oh the front porch in the summer and talked about the squeak in the swing. My dad always told me to get my tricycle off the sidewalk at night before someone fell over it. I never did. My mother cleaned the living room every day. We never sat in it. Once I turned on one of the lights and the cellophane around the lamp shade smelled and I got my hands slapped.
Mom cut the grass and filled the clothesline every day. Every Friday, she hosed out the garbage cans. In the spring she really got crazy ... lugging mattresses out to the backyard and setting up curtain rods to dry the lace curtains. Sometimes she put on gloves and hat with her best dress and took the streetcar into town where she went from store to store paying the utilities and making fifty-cent payments on my watch and tricycle.
My sister bossed and went to high school. She didn't do anything else. I was insanely busy going to school and being a servant to everyone ... running to the store ten thousand times a day for my mother, and whenever the pan under the icebox filled with water from the melting ice, you-know-who always had to empty it without spilling a single drop.
One morning my father didn't get up and go to work. He went to the hospital and died the next day.
I hadn't thought that much about him before. He was just someone who left and came home and seemed glad to see everyone at night. He opened the jar of pickles when no one else could. He was the only one in the house who wasn't afraid to go into the basement by himself.
He cut himself shaving, but no one kissed it or got excited about it. It was understood when it rained, he got the car and brought it around to the door. When anyone was sick, he went out to get the prescription filled. He took lots of pictures ... but he was never in them.
Whenever I played house, the mother doll had a lot to do. I never knew what to do with the daddy doll, so I had him say, I'm going off to work now and threw him under the bed.
The funeral was in our living room and a lot of people came and brought all kinds of good food and cakes. We had never had so much company before.
I went to my room and felt under the bed for the daddy doll. When I found him, I dusted him off and put him on my bed.
He never did anything. I didn't know his leaving would hurt so much.
The creditors came the day after the funeral and carted off the icebox, the car, and the contents of the living room that no one ever sat in.
Grandma came and said she was taking us all home with her so we could be a family again. The family got bigger and a lot weirder. Them were Mother's sister and her husband and their two children, a brother who played pool all day, and another sister who roller-skated and was about to be married. There was also my grandfather, who never made a left-hand turn and who used lard to polish the car.
Grandma wore an apron and was always busy cleaning the living room that no one ever sat in. The kitchen was the only room in the house that had heat and that was when the oven was lit. I used to stand on the chair to get warm and look down on everyone as they argued about money.
My mother got a job. No one in my entire class had a mother who went to work every morning. I didn't tell anyone but my best friend. She got mad at me and spread it all over school.
In 1938, my mother said, We are going to be a family again (again!) and introduced us to a stepfather. I was the only girl in North America to have a stepfather. I didn't take a chance on telling even my best friend.
My stepfather and I didn't talk to one another for awhile. I guess he was a person who didn't know how to show love. I remember when he taught me how to ride a two-wheel bicycle. I told him not to let go, but he said it was time. I fell and Mom ran to pick me up, but he waved her off. I was so mad I showed him. I got right back on that bike and rode it myself. He didn't even feel embarrassed. He just smiled.
When I went to college, he didn't hang around to talk like Mom did ... he just lugged fifteen pieces of luggage up to the third floor and acted sorta awkward.
Whenever I called home, he acted like he wanted to talk, but he always said, I'll get your mother.
All my life he nagged, Where are you going? What time are you coming home? Do you have gas in the car? Who's going to be there? No, you can't go.
It was a long time before I realized that's how you love someone.
My mother selfishly pursued a career on a factory assembly line making rubber door strips for General Motors cars. My stepfather dedicated his life to making me pick up towels in the bathroom and turning off lights.
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