Care Packages
When I was a kid, my parents sent me to camp for the entire summer. It's not that they didn't love me. Rather, it's that they loved me so much that they wanted to share me with the wilderness, so that I might bring joy to all the flora and fauna and the hormonal counselors who were charged with keeping me from drowning and getting kicked in the head by a horse.Anyone who has ever been to camp, knows that your sense of self -worth is exponentially related to the amount of mail that is received from home. My parents sent me letters written by my cat, Baker. Baker wrote about all the antics that my parents were up to since I had been away. He would include kitty treats and hairballs that he had yakked up on the rug. Baker was a visionary. He wrote that in the future, cats everywhere would have journals accessible via the internet. I thought his prophecy was rubbish and I wrote him letter telling him so. I am sure that he is looking down at me from Kitty Heaven now, licking his a$hole and thinking I told you so.
Recently, I asked my parents where they got the idea to write letters from the cat. I figured that they must have spent all year crafting letters from the cat. I can't fathom the amount of planning involved to orchestrate the precise schedule of a daily letter (minus Sundays). "I don't really remember those letters, Honey. You have to keep in mind that those were the days when your father and I were still experimenting with recreational chemicals and knew nothing of 12-step programs," Mom said. She paused and then said, "I'm glad that you enjoyed them, your sister didn't get anything like that when she went to camp. We just sent her money."
Mom still sends me care packages. She sends fancy pens and journals, whimsical flip books, trail mix, sardines and cocktail napkins all packed in perfumed confetti. Yesterday, a package arrived at my door. Inside was a copy of Watership Down, one of my childhood favorites. There was also a very used baby doll with bright blue eyes that open and shut and a tuft of fire red hair on her head.
Memories of playing with the doll came flooding back. I called Mom and she told me that when I was a kid, they bought me lots of dolls in different colors so that they would look like our family. A friend of the family noticed that I didn't have any Caucasian dolls. One day, she brought me a doll that her daughter had grown tired of. A little white baby doll. I named her White Baby.
I looked at White Baby and told Mom that it sure looked like I loved that doll. "No, she was pretty worn out when you got her."
I should have named her White Trash Baby.
Mist 1
PS: Thank you to all of you who voted for me for a Really F*cking Stupid Blog Award. This is an honor that I'll remember for as long as I can.
Posted by Mist1 @ 6:10 AM
83 Comments:
That sure makes me nostalgic for my Happy Days Fonzie doll. Knock it off, I didn't by it for myself.
Those baby dolls that opened and shut their eyes used to freak me out when I was a kid. Heck, they STILL freak me out!
I used to have a Jordan Knight doll (urrgh...NKOTB...Sad! I know!). When we grew out of the NKOTB craze and opted for Guns'N Roses and all the heavy metal and glamrock guys, my friend used my Jordan doll as a voodoo doll. Poor Jordan.
I really love it when people send me sardines in the mail. Don't we all?
By the way, I'm steering clear of 7/11's from here on out, cuz you just never know...
Your parents probably got that idea from reading too many Christmas letters. Honestly, if I get another Christmas letter this year from somebody's CAT, or KID, or GRANDKID, or NOSY NEIGHBOR, then I'm going to barf up my entire small intestine.
But I'm sure your cat wrote wonderful letters ...
I think your sister got the better end of that deal. Do you think you could talk your parents into sending me money?
michael,
I always wanted a Michael Jackson doll.
chrissy,
They still freak me out too. Also, I think I have rekindled my flame for Jordan.
jonas,
The sardines are from Portugal and packed in olive oil. That almost makes it better, doesn't it?
dorky,
Baker was an incredible letter writer.
churlita,
My parents are awfully generous. Tell them that I've impregnated you.
Were your parents artists?
I am like in stunned shock that you let the "oh we never sent stuff like that to your sister we just sent money' comment go. Actually, I suspect we will see a story on the news related to this in the morning.Crazy woman takes parents hostage,,,,wow look at those shoes! Story at eleven.
BD
You are so lucky your mum sends you those packages, your mum is awesome. It sure is the thought that counts.
I had a non caucasion doll as a kid too, her name was Bindi, and that is the name I haver chosen for our little puppy we are getting (I have a pic on my blog of her).
My daughter Mia has a Cabbage Patch Doll that is brown, she named her Darla..very cute :)
Well, this explains where you got your creative writing from!
Your post made me think of my summer camps. My sister wrote me funny letters with dubious illustrations. Heck, did I keep those?
I remember watching whatever cartoon that picture was from as a kid.
Was it the animals of farthing wood?
Ok I feel sorry for you now so I've called off the elderly.
My favorite "doll" as a child was a sock monkey.
Parents should be careful when choosing toys for young children.
They don't call them dangerous toy lists for nothing.
I didn't have a doll nor did I ever go to camp, woe is me.
This is another one of those American things that I just can't relate to. Either that or I was so dirt-poor that my school refused to tell me children were being sent away to camp during the holidays. Could explain why my time spent away from school was so lonely.
P.S. Sorry, but I didn't vote. I didn't know you had to. Just thought it was an ellaborate parody. Silly me :|
I want to chase those bunnies in that photo! I want to chase them all around the yard! But they're just standing there staring at me. Stupid bunnies!
MEOOOOOWWW!
I love your parents. I will remember to send letters from our various animals when they go to camp....minus the hairballs.
I love care packages.
I still have my first doll. She's purple and is missing an eye. I remember the day I picked it off her face. My mom said she was scared for me.
Fun times.
I think your parents did the right thing by sending the letters from your cat instead of money. It's given you memories to write about. What would you need money at camp for anyway?
Funny, i was just thinking of Watership Down the other day... I like how the better-looking rabbit got to be the leader-guy.
MY CAT actually used to write me letters, not my parents pretending to be the cat. It took some time but after figuring out cat language, they were quite interesting.
She also used to leave me presents in the sandbox. I think she confused it for a giant litter box.
I never got to go to camp. However during school my mom used to write notes on the napkin in my lunch.
I'm afraid I only understand the word 'camp' when applied to levels of effeminacy in gay men. Please explain.
That Baker was one smart pussy - I had a great aunt like that - they said she ate a psychic mouse and ever after was blessed with 'the gift'.
Puss
"Watership Down" is one of my favorite books.
claudia,
Hippies, writers, educators, and a tiny bit theatrical.
bd,
I'm comfortable with it. I'm the sole beneficiary.
cazzie,
You should have urged Mia to name the doll Brown Baby.
fab,
You really should have kept those letters.
phishez,
Watership Down was a heartwarming tale about cuddly bunnies, wasn't it?
akelamalu,
I did have another brush with the elderly yesterday that I was going to write about, but then I got the care package.
monkey,
I am afraid of sock monkeys.
es,
It's not too late.
orhan,
Get a sleeping bag and come over. I'll show you what camp is like.
pool,
Sleep away camp was the best. We showered outside. That's where I learned to pee standing up.
lulu,
Please tell Dan that you need an intervention for your catnip problem.
wreck,
I had to put her back in the box face down because she started to scare me.
tallulah,
The hairballs were the best part. We all gathered around the campfire to play Guess What Baker Ate.
debbie,
Bring the doll to therapy with you. Talk to her and not your therapist.
woo-woo,
The trading post. I needed candy from the damn trading post. They didn't actually trade candy for anything but money.
matt,
Yeah, that rabbit was hot. Personally, I had a thing for Hazel.
yvonne,
Do you still speak cat? Can you tell my cat to leave the f*cking blinds alone?
reba,
My mom wrote poems. Not trying to one up you or anything, but my mom is pretty awesome.
puss,
You don't need camp in your life. I can't picture you pole dancing in the mess hall.
nwjr,
Me too. I can't wait to read it again.
My parents never wrote to me. I had no status as camp. I wish they would have at least sent money.
The rabbits in Watership Down are constantly in fear for their lives as they get hunted, killed, and mangled by everything. It's so tough that you actually feel good for the main character getting to die in the end. That movie will mess a kid up.
It was one of my favorites too.
I'm going to end it now,
Dagromm
It never occurred to my parents that mail delivery was one of the most exciting, most important times of the day at camp. I got nothing. Ever. While all the kids around me ran up on stage all gleefully to get their loot when their name was called. The joys of childhood...
A friend of mine actually owns a White Trash Barbie. I figure I can get her drunk one night and steal it.
Love the letters from the cat idea. I might have to steal that too.
My mom sends me her laundry and bills.
I know. She's f*cking brilliant.
av,
I ain't got to work
I got me a sweet thing here
Disability
tera,
I could deal with two or three steps.
sqt,
You should have written letters ahead of time and sent them to yourself.
dagromm,
Great bedtime story. I loved the part where Hazel has the vision, "the fields...they're covered in blood."
fringes,
Damn. I can't believe you turned out so well.
edgy,
Please post a photo of that Barbie.
curiosity,
That's quite a role reversal.
I don't know. Fancy pens and perfumed confetti makes me suspect the recreational chemicals were just a gateway.
But that's because I prefer the money in the mail.
I used to get a can of soup & string in my care packages. hmmmm. Trade you parents?
Ooh - "Disability" is brilliant!
Rich people are dumb
They can't just pick up and move
Their house ain't got wheels
omg, the comment above reminds me - I also have an NKOTB doll - the Joey McIntyre one. It's still in the box and everything. Wonder if it's worth anything? I doubt it...LOL
"This is an honor that I'll remember for as long as I can."
lmao!
so how many different colors are your family members..........mine are all sorts of variations of the peach color in the crayola crayon box......not a single white person among us.......
I had a squeaky Whinie the Pooh bear that my little sister dropped in a painting tray of brown trim paint about 32 years ago...I've lost it since, probably left in one of the domiciles in Atlanta that I was in at some point. The odd thing was my sister has this birthmark that covers part of her left eye (I think it's the left) and the Pooh bear landed into the paint tray creating a nearly identical paint stain on him. It's X Files stuff I know
That was cuter than like 4 puppies.
How funny!
My parents sent me to gymnastics camp one year and all the equipment was outside. The only novelty of gymnastics out in the heat and sun was that it increased the possibility of being crapped on by a bird during a beam routine.
I can't remember if I even got any mail. I'm guessing not.
ctw,
I saw Holly and Andy in the backseat of his pick up. Don't tell Ann.
booda,
Money is good, but I love presents.
tug,
You can borrow my dad. He doesn't pack very good lunches and he can't make cute pigtails, but he'll give you $5 when he wants you to go away.
av,
I built on a porch
I can't move my double wide
I'm like the rich folks
wave,
Oooh, good idea.
You stupid bunnies
The new warren has no chicks
No f*cking for you
miztris,
Wait, what was my honor again?
stak,
We range from carnation pink to cocoa.
furious,
That sh*t is bananas.
nolff,
OMG! Nothing is cuter than four puppies.
velvet,
I went to gymnastics camp too. We practiced our eating disorders three times a day.
I know I'm supposed to give you some space, but I had to tell you that my Dad routinely bought us stuffed animals and baby dolls from yard sales.
And not even good ones. The ones who had already gotten haircuts and "makeup" from ink pens. Bless his heart.
I wanted to vote for you, Mist1, but they said something about me not paying a poll tax, and then these guys with pointy hoods chased me away.
I would have voted for you, though, because this is a great blog.
Were it not for the mean guys with pointy hoods. One was named Cletus, and you could smell his hair tonic from thirty yards. I'm pretty sure it was Lucky Tiger, but it might have been Beau Kreml.
The one that creeped me out was that hairy little cyborg plushie, Teddy Ruxpin. I kept expecting to open the closet and see that it had Raggedy Andy bent over the easy bake oven.
Congratulations on your award. You deserve it!
My mother said I couldn't go to camp because that was for kids whose parents didn't want them around, right before they sent me to boarding school.
123,
Your dad probably bought some of my old Barbies. Sorry.
history,
It's okay. With the number of convicted felons that I know, I'm surprised that I was even nominated. Please hand me my tiara. Thanks.
willie,
I had almost forgotten about Teddy Ruxpin. Holy crap. You're good.
comedy,
I'm about one tube top away from being a cafe con leche trash baby.
hearts,
Boarding school is better than camp. It means that your parents love you enough to pay people to keep you around for years.
I'm having problem today. I swear I commented on this early this morning. I'm hallucinating.
You would remember the honor a lot more if it came with a shoe shopping spree...just an idea.
That;s so cool about the really fucking stupid blog award!! and I'm envious you get stuff like Watership DOWN! I don;t even get a phone call! SNIFF!!
I never got any mail, not even from my cat, and he said he loved me more than anything in the whole world.
i saw really expensive "collectible" baby dolls in my friend's store and told my mom that i never missed not having dolls when i was little. my stuffed animals were my world and i never wanted dolls. somehow all she heard was the part about me not having a baby doll when i was little. don't you know that christmas my mother spent over $200 on a redheaded baby doll for me, her almost 30 year old daughter...what the hell was she thinking??
moms are just the best. crazy ones and all!
"This is an honor that I'll remember for as long as I can."
Genious. Well done, Grace.
Did you Michael Jackson doll have the sequined glove? Could it moonwalk? Fonzee could never do that.
Obviously I meant 'did your...'
I am totally thrilled to find out that you like sardines. I love them. No...I absolutely adore them. With saltine crackers. And a vodka martini, up, dirty. Extra olives.
susan,
Remember what? You should see my shoes today.
mogul,
I'll have my mom send you a little something. She loves stuff like that.
stacy,
Your cat wrote Baker a letter claiming otherwise.
hello,
In my adulthood, dolls creep me out. I would have to keep it in the closet.
andy,
Thanks for noticing.
michael,
I wish I knew. I never had one. Will be asking Mom and Dad about that.
nance,
Extra olives are essential.
Mist, I'm a fifty one year old man. I've decided I want to have parents again. Mine are dead. Have been for some time. So, after reading this posting, I've decided your's should adopt me. I want care packages, bad advice, and letters from animals.
Can you pass this on to Mom and Dad????
silver,
Maybe your dog was illiterate.
stewart,
You can't just waltz on into their lives as a full grown man. I suggest that you do lots of adorable things like run through the garden naked and stuff to win their affections.
"I am sure that he is looking down at me from Kitty Heaven now, licking his a$hole and thinking I told you so."
LOL! Sounds like a typical cat.
Now you'll have to find one on ebay. What do you figure, it'll be about a buck or so? I remember the first time a kid showed up to school in a sequined glove. It's like that kid become a god overnight.
diesel,
Except for that writing part, he was pretty typical.
michael,
I wear gloves in the shower. Sometimes, I only wear one. I don't moonwalk in the shower because I don't want to slip and fall.
I've perfected slipping and falling without having to do the moonwalk. Anytime, anywhere...in fact, just last week I took the quick way downstairs. It's amazing how much faster one can get downstairs when the feet don't have to touch the ground.
michael,
I'm not very good at stairs either. Add heels and a cat and I'm just waiting to break an arm.
The best part of my ear imbalance is that whenever I have to get up in the middle of the night, it's like an amusement park ride until I either crash to the ground or steady myself. Sometimes I even get the bonus of nasuea.
michael,
I'm going to blame my clumsiness on my ears too. I think I have wine in my left ear. It throws me off.
alicia,
Do you have Trailer Park Skipper? She's a collectible.
Dude! I loved Watership Down and I reread it last year when I first got back from France. My parents aren't into care packages. I never got one - not in college or even living abroad. They're from a third world country, love is not beating your children when they don't deserve it.
I had a suspiciously tan cabbage patch kid, as a kid. She also had a curly fro with two straight pigtails. I think they wanted to make her a Latina but, being 1984 they went country instead: her name is Elsa Mae and I still sleep with her.
million,
Elsa Mae is the quintessential Cabbage Patch name. I can imagine the Xavier Roberts sign of authenticity now.
Can I vicariously steal the wine excuse too. It's much more exciting than my reason...I just might not want to use the reason why wine got in your ear ;-)
michael,
I have trick wine glasses.
Can you please ship them to my office? I could put them to good use. I guess it's better you have trick wine glasses than slick swine asses, right??
M1 > 5p - 1p
michael,
Some people would argue that the slick swine a$$es are better. And then, there are those who like sheep. It's really a matter of persona preference.
nolff,
Have I ever told you how smart you are?
Unless I'm wearing the wool of one or eating the sweet succulent meat of the other, I have no real preference.
Shoot, then what part of the sheep was I eating?
michael,
I think it was the sweet, succulent meat.
Let's hope so. I like saying sweet and succulent. Unless I'm taking about plants or open wounds.
michael,
I like the words hallucinogenic and festering when I am talking about plants and open wounds.
It beats puss and oozing. I'm really getting uncomfortable with where this is heading ;-) But I must confess I do enjoy the banter.
michael,
You win. I have to eat some lunch now. The words puss and oozing have minimal effect on my appetite. I think.
Woo hoo! It's only taken a week. I must go eat now, but unfortunately puss and oozing very much impact my appetite.
michael,
Don't have egg drop soup.
I will so take your word for that. For some reason, my victory seems hollow now...
I had a Zippy the Monkey doll. He is missed now, above all toys of memory...
michael,
Victory is never as sweet as it looks.
his sin,
My sister had Evil Monkey. I believe he was the lesser known monkey of the Hear No, See No, Speak No Evil monkeys. No one ever talks about him. He is known as Do No.
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