Kate's Motel

What you don't know about your bedspread won't hurt you.

When Childhood Dies, Its Corpses Are Called Adults.

When I was a little girl I loved spending the night with my grandma.  She lived right down the road from us, and I could walk or ride my bicycle to her house.  When I was too young to go there by myself, mom would take me and pick me up early the next morning.  One of my very fondest memories of these slumber parties is that at bedtime, after I’d donned my nightclothes, my beloved grandmother would lay in the bed with me and tell me bedtime stories.  Three Little Pigs, Little Red Riding Hood, Goldilocks, all the really good ones.  I loved it.  Just my super-fun grandma and me, making memories.

Last Saturday night, The Cable Guy made some spectacular strawberry daiquiris. (The Cable Guy = Andy) The offspring had already gone to bed for the night, having crashed hard into a sugar coma from the Halloween festivities, and we just wanted to relax.  A daiquiri for each of us.

That night as I was lying in bed trying to fall asleep, (The Cable Guy always falls asleep so much faster than I do, almost like he has nothing worth stressing over to keep him awake.  I’m jealous of this.) I could smell The Cable Guy’s breath.  It wasn’t overpowering, so I didn’t get nauseous or anything; I could just smell it.

“Sonofabitch,” I said.  I was immediately transported down memory lane to my bedtime stories with my beloved grandmother.  The Cable Guy’s breath was the same as hers.

She was toasted every single time.

And here, all my life, I thought we were having tea parties.  I didn’t know there was tea in my cup and Jim Beam in hers.

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November 5, 2009 - Posted by | Uncategorized | , ,

12 Comments »

  1. *giggles*

    At least she told you stories that were fairy tales. My grandmother told us stories about a kids big toe being cute off and coming to get him. Then my grandad would snore so loud I thought I was in bed with Fat Albert.

    Comment by Liz Sanders | November 5, 2009 | Reply

    • I seem to remember that scary story about the big toe….

      Comment by Kate | November 6, 2009 | Reply

  2. They may have been alcohol scented fairytales…but, she still took the time to do this loving thing with you. I envy you that. I absolutely love the title of this piece. Brilliant!

    Comment by Donna | November 6, 2009 | Reply

    • I’ve known all my life that she was a little too far into her cups. But when I was that young, I didn’t really understand it. All I knew is that she was fun. I wasn’t neglected during those times. We played together, she read to me, we cooked huge meals and she taught me my table manners…all with a bourbon in hand. I guess it could have been worse 😛

      Comment by Kate | November 6, 2009 | Reply

  3. Kate…..you don’t need to know EVERYTHING!

    Comment by Mom | November 6, 2009 | Reply

    • Yes, I do too!

      Comment by Kate | November 7, 2009 | Reply

  4. So wait – since when are daiquiries made with bourbon?

    Comment by Jessica | November 6, 2009 | Reply

    • They’re not, silly 😛

      I’m a rum girl, grandma is a bourbon girl.

      Comment by Kate | November 7, 2009 | Reply

  5. Well I hope you learned a valuable lesson in all of this Kate. There is nothing good in this world that can’t be made just a little bit better with alcohol. 🙂

    Comment by Janet Krueger | November 7, 2009 | Reply

  6. Kate, I’m so glad you’re blogging again! I have so missed reading your blogs. Thanks for the entertainment.

    Comment by Leslie Stone | November 7, 2009 | Reply

  7. Kate, I take this to mean you never picked up and took a swig of Mimi’s drink by mistake. Lucky for you. My childhood innocence of how she had such patience for us ended a little earlier. She never neglected anyone because of her drink of choice. In fact it probably made us much easier to tolerate. I will say this, it does explain why Pa always made me breakfast.

    Comment by Anne | December 14, 2009 | Reply

    • I remember coming close a few times…

      ps: I love your “wicked” email address 😛

      Comment by Kate | December 14, 2009 | Reply


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