January 14, 2012
Lannis: Of Nostalgia and Nonsense...
Okay, so I’ve squirreled away things from my past as much as anyone, but despite Mr Lannis’ suspicions that the reason for the bigger house is so I don’t have to get rid of anything else (yes, I can read your mind, hon.), that’s not the case.
But a few things I do keep. And I don’t even know why.
Case in point? The pickled bums.
These are my pickled bums. They sit on an open-stud shelf on the stairs to our unfinished basement, proudly, inexplicably, for all the world to see. Well, if the world wanted to see our basement, that is.
(I can hear my mother saying, “because I said, and that’s all the reason you need.” Ha ha!)
The pickled bums have been around almost as long as I can remember. I say almost, because I remember they were received as a gag gift when one of my parents had a milestone birthday. The details are hazy -- I can’t even remember which one received them.
The bums, however, have remained clear. They’ve always been around, usually on a shelf in an unfinished basement (my father had the habit of finishing basements just before my mother would decide we needed to move. It happened three times. And then he helped finish our basement before my husband and I moved. Hm. Maybe he just likes finishing basements...).
Back to the bums. Not the figurative jerks (though I’m sure they’re around -- I had the pleasure of driving in rush hour to an appointment in the city recently, and trust me, they’re around...), but the jar of tushes on our shelf.
My mom was going to get rid of them at one point, and I’m not entirely certain why, but I couldn’t let that happen. Mildly inappropriate, they’ve always given me a smile, can’t I spare a spot of shelf for them in return?
(There’s probably a metaphor in here about assholes who stay with you, but I’m too scattered to nail it down.)
Actually, I think their original jar smashed at one point, and they’ve been relocated into another mason... it really doesn’t matter.
What matters is that they’re still around to make my kids smile.
Simply a nonsense gag gift, tushes made out of nylon stocking and a little thread. But fun.
A touch of goofiness tucked on a shelf, almost overlooked. But kids certainly notice them, and announce that jar’s presence to their friends, too (“Look at the pickled bums, guys!”).
My youngest is excited about his next sharing day at school, because he’s convinced he’ll remember he wants to bring in the bums. He just might.
And if it’s an object-of-child’s-choice sharing day, I just might let him. Ha!
So, what do you have lying around the house that inexplicably can’t be purged? Anything? Or am I the only nutbar?
Occasional poster at The Mrs, I'm Lannis - or Leslie, depending on which circles you're swimming. A while ago I decided that I don't care anymore, hence my general standards for life are lower than The Mrs' (but she still loves me.) [Editor: I do]
I live in a small town with my favourite people: my husband, Mr Lannis, and our two boys, along with two cats and one hamster. If you follow me on Twitter, you might witness my issues with linear thought, road rage, spending more money on food than books, and potty mouth. Be warned.