Shopping list

Description:

A portion of a tear-off shopping list with things filled in by both my parents and me. The note identifying this list as being from March '90 was made by my mother.

Story:

Sarah had a boyfriend (now husband) who did his best to impress his girlfriend's parents and remembered things like birthdays, or maybe it was Christmas, anyway Bob (now my brother-in-law) gave my mom a shopping list holder. It was a wooden thing you hung on a wall that held a roll of receipt paper. The paper pulled down under a serrated cutter and had hooked sides to hold a pen.  The idea was you writer your items on the paper pulled down and then when you went shopping you just ripped off the paper and there was your list. It was handy and Mom put in on the kitchen wall by the dishwasher. 

She made it clear that Dad and I (the only kid living at home at the time) should add items to the list and that way she would remember to get them. We had some fun in those days and Dad played with language and fonts. I doodled pictures and Mom found the whole thing amusing, so she saved the list and a few years later sent it to me in a letter. The handwriting for "red rose tea" is my natural handwriting. The "Ice Cream" and "Grape Juice" I was making an effort. (Had to make Mom feel like the money she spent on my calligraphy course was worth it.) The cursive is all Mom's. I’m pretty sure the Sucrets is Dad's contribution, as is the light bulbs, and of course he wrote, “The preparation of the letter “H” when it is obtainable at a bargain.”  A little 30 year old slice of life.

The three of us had our own way of being together (still do when I visit them alone) that is very different from when my sisters are around. It was not unusual on evenings for the three of us to be in the living room, Dad in his Lay-z-boy, Mom in the other Lay-z-boy, and me in the flowered chair that rocked and spun around, and all be reading our own books.  Dad would occasionally give me one of his books to read.  On one occasion it was a science fiction book called Dreadful Sanctuary  (the cover had nothing to do with the story--or so Dad explained to me, adding that he thought I'd enjoy it. The premise was that earth was thought to be an insane asylum for the other inner planets.  It asked again and again the question "how do you know you are sane?" Anyway, I was reading that, Dad was reading The Tempting of America by Robert Bork and Mom was reading a light romance book.  We were all enjoying our books. Then Mom laughed out loud and felt the need to share what she was laughing at. There was an informal house rule--mostly applied to the Readers Digest, that if you laugh out loud at something, you are obliged to share.  So Mom read a paragraph or two out loud, and I personally didn’t think it was that funny. Dad didn't laugh either, so I read out loud the paragraph I was on and turned to Dad who then read aloud the paragraph he was on. The two of us looked back at Mom, and Dad said, “Your turn.”  Mom was not amused...at the time, but we've all laughed about it later.