A story.

For the millionth time this week, I can’t sleep.
Possibly because, for the millionth time this Spring, we’re all sick.
We found a suspicious little patch of black mold in the bathroom and we’re wondering if it could be responsible for our continuous battle with chest infections since February.
Its all I can do to not grab David’s saw out of the garage and go ape on that spot. I’ll teach it to make my family cough and run fevers for four months.
But instead of an unqualified bathroom remodel of vengeance, I’ve decided to tell you guys a story.

That will make me feel better.

Now what story should I tell…

Oh I know.

I currently live in the town that I was born and raised in. It’s small. It’s quaint. The post office and the library have smelled the same for 30 years. The ice cream parlor that I loved growing up is the same one my girls love now.
When the waitress at the neighborhood diner asks one of the locals if he’ll have “the usual”, you can bet it’s been his order since the Reagan administration …or before.
Growing up I was convinced that my town was the center of the universe. We set the trends. We were on the cutting edge of technology. After all, we had an elevator inside city hall. We were the town to watch for anything up and coming.
It also just so happened, that I was the youngest in my family for a long time. Leading me to believe, as youngest’s do, that I was center of my family’s universe.
Thus making me the extreme center of the center of the universe.
Most would feel overwhelmed by this position.
But I was born for this.
My sister’s job was to keep my position a secret. Sometimes she even went as far as to try to convince me that I held no importance as a world power. She was that good at her job.
She specialized in protection. Constantly coming up with new locations to hide me in case of attack. The closet. The bottom of a sleeping bag while she carefully guarded the opening with her full weight. Once I was even found in the chicken coop, casually gnawing on a melon rind. Our parents warned her that the chicken coop was off limits from now on. But I was on her side…the coop was a brilliant and delicious hide out for an infant. She had gained my respect.
There was no end to the effort she put in to protecting me.
Once, while she was taking a shower and I was using the restroom, one of our fire security alarms was triggered. Without even stopping to turn off the water, or get dressed, she leapt from the shower, grabbed one of our highly trained guard dogs under each arm and ran, stark naked for the barn. Such loyalty. Such sacrifice. I was left in awe sitting there on the toilet, listening to the blaring alarms. She didn’t even hesitate. I was in good hands.
She taught me to do her chores for her. She carefully manicured my hair while my parents were away. The latest styles are of no concern when your focus is security. As a world power I was incognito, no one would suspect the little girl with the bowl cut.
For years I lived under her watchful eye.
My sister has since retired from the role of protection specialist. But then again, I also stepped down from my position as extreme center of the center of the universe. I’ve passed the position on to my youngest. And I’m proud to say she too is in good hands with three older sisters protecting her.

7 thoughts on “A story.”

  1. Ahahaha! I love it! You arrived to adulthood safe, sound and undescovered, but clearly the center of the universe! Even though you’ve passed on the position- you still carry it beautifully! Love you tons Gippy!

  2. Write a book already!!!!! You are such an amazing story-teller. Let me rephrase… I NEED you to write a book, so I can read it and laugh and have a great day :)

  3. Loved this! You are a great story teller :)!

    So for the mold thing – I hate to say it but mold in a bathroom is fairly common and most likely not the cause of your problem. (Though it could be). We’ve been crazy CRAZY sick this year and I keep hoping it’s due to mold, (sounds silly but our house gets mold in it from time to time because of bad circulation/humidity in our house). It’d just be nice for there to be some sort of reason behind it all.

    You can (for around $500 – I assume to your landlord) have it checked, which is what we have done. They take samples of the mold, inside the wall (they sand it a bit) and outside of your house to see if it is the bad kind of mold. If it is, obviously it needs to be taken care of! Wall ripped out, etc.

    If it is not, then you clean it off with bleach and water. They say that often you can tell if it is just an air movement problem by where you see the mold. For example ours comes in the winter time and only shows up behind things, and in different places every time (for example behind curtains, behind a dresser) and is not always on the walls, it’s even been on our girls play kitchen before because there was not enough ventilation between it and the wall. Also they say that if your walls are sweating, it’s often not a problem inside of your walls but a ventilation problem (For example my dining room walls get wet when I cook in the winter… which is every single night). So if your bathroom gets wet it could just be that.

    Ugh, mold is a pain. I hate it. We are installing ceiling fans in more rooms and a fan in our kitchen over our oven (yes… we don’t have one… and yes… I cook all the time) to see if that will help.

    If you are interested in talking to someone about it the guy we used was referred to us by Preferred Carpet Care… I’m blank on the name.

    Anyway enough of my rambling! Great story! :)

    1. Wow Nichole! Thank you for all the info! This mold is on the ceiling of our bathroom right next to the window (that we keep open quite often) Its the only place in the house with mold. This year has been a doozy for illness :(

  4. Well carli you know you where a good protector as well. lol should i remind you the washer, top of dresser in closet. lol i miss you carli… I love your story.

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