Welcome back readers. It's time for True Story Tuesday, brought to us by Rachel and Mr Daddy over at Once Upon a Miracle.
Way back ... way way back, my friend and I were about 7 years old, and my sister, Silly Sally hadn't yet turned 5. We had been playing outside on the opposite side of the street all day. Down several blocks to the park, in forts of friends in the alleys, in yards and houses ... again, all on the "other" side of the street. It was summer and back in those days, you're kids could take off the entire day only to be called in for dinner and the worst you worried about was tending to a scrapped knee or a popped blister from the monkey bars. This particular day, we headed home early. Upon getting to the house though, we faced a dilemma. Not a dilemma like ... ‘we're late, what will we say?’ Or ‘my new shoes have scuff marks, who will we blame it on?’ Not even a dilemma like: we had raided the wrong neighbors’ tulip bed and they'll definitely rat us out (of course we never did that ... cough cough) No, our real and frightening dilemma was that the pavers have been to our street. There was a fresh sheet of asphalt laid out, and we'd be stuck on the wrong side of the street for all of eternity. We're 7 in this story remember .... Given that this was 23 years ago, I don't know if we contemplated our situation for hours or minutes, but we finally reached a solution. WE meaning ME… I yelled at my lil sis Silly Sally, "Why don't you run across first and see what happens!" (lots of emphasis on YOU) Always quick to please at that age, but still a little apprehensive (understandably), she replies "What if my shoes melt?" Now all three of us can see this fresh sheet of asphalt is hot ... steaming hot. Sill Sally was right, her shoes might melt. My solution to that (to spare her new shoes?) ..... "Take them off!!"….. And oh yes she did. Silly Sally, not wanting to disappoint her big sister, did as she was told suggested and took her shoes off to run across the fresh sheet of asphalt standing between us and the house. That evening, my friends mom (a loyal follower to my blog ... Lady Dee) had more to worry about than bandaging a popped monkey bar blister. She spent the better part of the evening consoling my little sister with the burnt feet, in the bath tub trying to get the asphalt off her soles. Silly Sally has since forgiven me, but at times, I'm not so sure .....
