Flashback Friday-The Jetson car edition

I know, I know it’s been a while since I last wrote a Flashback Friday post.

Excuses? I have none.

But rejoice here is another segment of my crazy childhood so that you can laugh along with me.

My dad knew a guy that sold used cars. Used cars that you purchase on lay-a-way.

I know, crazy.

I paid $400 for this car over the course of a few months. I was so proud of that little red Chevette.

No that isn’t the song that Prince sang, although would have my car so much cooler

I had the car for about six months when my thought it would be a good idea to sell it and get a better car.

My dad put it in the paper for $200 or best offer.

A woman came to look at the car and offered my dad $250 for it.

He was shocked and told the woman how it was $200 or best offer.

She offered him $275.

He told her of the balding tires, the heat that wouldn’t shut off, and the driver’s side door that didn’t always stay shut.

She offered him $300.

He opened the hood and told the lady how he could stick his head in the shock towers.

She counted up her money and told my dad that the most she could pay was $425.

she still had groceries to buy, you know

Months later I saw my car driving through downtown and I swear it sounded just like the car from The Jetson’s.

Flashback Friday-Get Your Mind Out of the Gutter Edition

October is a really rough month for me as my dad’s birthday is smack in the middle of it, so today I am taking a break for the dad stories to bring you a flashback from my days as a Navy wife.

I am pretty sure you all know, but if you don’t, my husband served six years in the Navy.

Which means I served six years as a Navy wife, which is no small feat.

Jeremy’s ship was gone more days than it was home and so the community of wives from his ship was something that was needed.

You become friends with people that in any other life you probably wouldn’t be friends with. These women are your lifeline. You knew that you could count on them no matter what because they got it, they understood, and they were always there.

When the ship was on one of its deployments, a group of us gals decided to have weekly dinners together to drink lots of wine let the kids play and have some laughs.

One particular dinner we were at my friend Sally’s* house for pasta night.

The jar of sauce was stubborn. We smacked it, ran it under hot water, tapped the top of it with a butter knife.

No matter what we did that stupid jar of sauce would not open.

All of the sudden a lightbulb went off and I asked Sally if she had a rubber husband.

All of the room just stopped and everyone looked at Sally.

Sally’s face was red. Her jaw had dropped. She started to stammer out words that we couldn’t quite understand.

Finally after what seemed like an eternity she said very sternly to me, “Heather, I just don’t see how that is any of your business and how this relates to this at all!” as she gestures to the whole kitchen filled with women.

I was shocked and I am sure that my jaw hit the floor, you know after I realized what she was talking about.

I happened to look down into the open drawer next to me and lo and behold…..the rubber husband!

I grabbed it out of the drawer, snatched the jar of sauce from another friend’s hand, opened the jar and proclaimed, “THIS is a rubber husband!” and walked out of the kitchen laughing so hard.

As I walked out of the room I heard a roar of laughter and poor Sally defending herself.

You learn lots of things when you are lumped together with people from all over the country, but none was ever as funny as learning that little tidbit of information.

P.S. This is a rubber husband
This is a Rubber Husband

*Sally’s name really wasn’t Sally, you had to know that when I put the * next to it…right?

Flashback Friday-No I certainly was not playing charades edition

Growing up I was a Girl Scout. Like my entire childhood was me being a Girl Scout & my mom being our scout leader.

Cookies….I sold them. Patches….I had them.

But this post isn’t about scouting or patches but about something I learned when our troop got first aid certified at the American Red Cross one Saturday morning.

One of the things that we learned was what the universal sign for choking is.

Do you know it?

Fast forward to the next day and a picnic at my parent’s friend’s house.

The parents were inside laughing, talking, drinking…you know things that parents do at these sorts of things.

The kids, and boy howdy was there a lot of us, were in the backyard. Running, playing, shoving chips into our pie holes…..you know doing what kids do at these sorts of things.

I was generally dorking around and eating chips when all of the sudden I couldn’t breathe.

I tried to ask for help, but no sound would come out.

I used that universal sign for choking but all the of the kids were so busy dorking around that no one was paying attention to me.

I decided since I was starting to get light headed that I should go into the kitchen where the adults were and let them know I was choking.

I walked into the kitchen and all of the adults stopped talking and looked at me.

“What do you need, Heather?” “Boy, she’s quieter than usual.” “What is she doing with her hands around her neck like that?” were all things that I heard from different adults.

“Wait!” my dad exclaimed, “I think she wants to play charades!”

Let me be clear in the fact that we had NEVER played charades in our house or anyone elses like ever

“Larry why is her face turning blue?” another person in the room asked.

“Holy shit! I think she is choking!!” someone else exclaimed.

In a matter of miliseconds my ten year old body was being flipped upside down as someone grabbed a hold of my ankles and my dad started feverishly whacking on my back while I tried to keep my head from hitting the kitchen floor.

In what seemed like an eternity, finally coughed up that chip.

“You know, Heather, if you were choking you really should have said something. Things could have turned for the worse pretty quick,” my dad told me after I was placed back on my feet.

“Dad, this is supposed to be the universal sign for choking. I did tell you,” I told him as I demonstrated the sign once more.

My dad chuckled, patted me on the back and asked me if I wanted some more chips which made all the adults in the room roar with laughter.

I left the room, totally pissed off that the lady at the American Red Cross and vowing to never play Charades.

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