I Am Such a Deadbeat

Having spent a post honoring my current wife I think it only appropriate that I honor my first wife, too. I'm sure I have an inkling everyone's reaction to that, but bear with me, okay?

Monday is House of My Youth Day, which means it's the day chosen especial for me to talk about events from my past. Particularly, events from my childhood. For some reason, this morning I have been thinking about when we lived in a suburb north of St. Paul, MN. I was five. That is where my memory mostly stops. Whereas others have memories of four, three, and even two-years-of age, I do not. There is one memory which I think predates my fifth birthday. It was at my great-grandmother's house. I remember being presented to her and then ushered outside so that my youthful energy did not tax her too much. Other than that, my memories seem to begin at five and continue.

I was thinking I had told this story before, but I can't find it. So, if I have told it before, I apologize. But, like all good storytellers, even if I did tell it before I'll be telling it different now. That's the cool thing about memory. It's selective. And fluid. Which means it changes with time. But this did happen.

It was summer time, I think. Warm weather anyway. I was playing outside with the boy next door, Ricky. He was four. We were in our yard, which was fenced, and playing something. Probably trucks in the dirt. Whatever it was I am sure it was in the dirt. Well, Ricky's older sister, Cheryl, comes out and sees us. Was looking for us actually. Well, looking for me. Cherrie (pronounced Sherry) was six, and filled with a vivid imagination. She came to the fence and asked if we would come play with her. Having no reason not to, we did.

She brought us to the far back of her yard, where the trees were. They made a kind of grove, and the grass was allowed to grow tall here. It made for a neat place to hide out sometimes. Well, Cherrie had apparently been preparing for our (my) arrival. Things were all set up for us. The first thing she did was tell me (not ask) we were getting married. She told Ricky to sit down and be the "audience". She bent over and picked up a pretty little white veil and wrapped herself in white linen. She handed me a top hat. (Apparently her mother had given her these things to play with.) The top hat was too large, so we stuffed it with things so it didn't cover my mouth.

She told me to stand next to her and hold her hand. I wasn't keen on this, but how does one say no to a girl? I never could. So there we stood, holding hands. Then Cherrie proceeded to recite some sort of liturgy. Don't remember anything of what she said, except that she finished with, "I now pronounce you man and wife." (Spouse hates it that some say "man" and wife instead of the more proper "husband" and wife. Can't say I blame her.)

Thinking we were finished, I started to leave, but Cherrie hung on to my hand.

"Oh, no! You can't leave yet."

"But aren't we married now? Why can't I leave?"

"We're not married until we kiss."

Kiss!!!???

Talk about getting sucked into something. I hadn't been keen on holding hands, so I really wasn't keen on this. Especially with Ricky sitting right there and laughing at me. So Cherrie slapped Ricky and told him not to look. Then I had to kiss her. So I did. Wishing I could be anywhere else.

She made me do it twice because the first time was too fast. So we held a good, long kiss. (No tongues. No lip movement. Just touching. Sweet and romantic, huh?)

Finally, it was over, and I started to leave again.

"Not yet!"

"What now?"

"We have to do our honeymoon."

"Our what?"

"Our honeymoon."

"How do we do that?"

"We lay down here in the grass together."

Talk about a frog in pan of water on a stove. This didn't seem to have any end at all. (You know, it's kind of reminiscent of my honeymoon with Spouse. Hmmm. Good thing she doesn't read this blog. [smiles])

So, we lay down in the grass. Side by side. Staring up into the trees. We did that until Ricky began to complain about being bored. Remember Ricky? He wanted to go back and play trucks. So did I.

Well, we weren't finished yet. Now we got a wagon (Cherrie had tied tin cans to it) and I got to pull her around the neighborhood. We had a bicycle horn and hooted it as we went. Ricky, having more sense than I, left.

When we had completed our rounds of the neighborhood we returned to the grass where Cherrie announced she was having a baby. Out comes the doll. Now we had to make our rounds again. As we passed my house the word was called out that lunch was ready.

Now let me tell you, I would never have found it in myself to tell Cheryl things were over and I was going to go do something else. But now it was a matter of something greater than my fear of offending. There was food to be eaten, and it was calling to me. I left.

We never played that game again. I don't think she ever forgave me. Guess I can't blame her. I didn't even give child support. Don't even remember the baby's name. Just another deadbeat dad.