When she answered my phone call I went right into it, “Hey Grams… You’ll never guess what I’m doing right now.” To which she replied, “Gee Moll, I don’t know, what?” Before we go any further, I should mention that it’s best if you imagine my grandma’s voice having inflections that mirror a mothers’ on any American 1950’s television sitcom: i.e. “Gee Moll, I don’t know, what?”
“Guess,” I returned playfully as if she didn’t already know that, like always, I would build suspense in this way. “Just guess, Grams!” And she played along, offering a generous list of possible presumptions.
Finally I gushed, “I’m ironing!” and she, “Why that’s wonderful!” again in a genial and sincere June Cleaver. Grams has been wanting me to get (and use) a clothing iron for decades now. So naturally, after I bought one and when I began using it she was the first person I thought to tell. And you my friends…are second.
On another note, I’m beginning to actually feel like a 1950’s house wife; scooting my shiny iron around the surrounding red, white and bluery. Pretending that my “This American Life” podcast is a radio show doesn’t help. Sporting pin curls definitely doesn’t help. Yet here I stand, iron in hand, dismissing wrinkles to my little heart’s content with the promise of a curly-headed tomorrow.
Happy Patriot’s Day.