And the moving truck is VERY late, so…
My ancestors were bears….
“Grandma Cook will eat you up if you lick that bowl!” Frithvail Cook backed that up with a sharp swat of her wooden spoon to her daughter’s chubby wrist.
“I was going to clean it, Ma!” Her chubby face was all sweetness and pigtailed earnestness.
“Grandma Cook eats little girls who tell fibs!” Said Dafydd as he ruffled his little sister’s hair. He was home on his first leave and hadn’t taken off his uniform once.
“Yeah!” Said Wes the Brat. “She ate the baby between Bren and D…” he shut up as Daffyd thwacked him on the head.
Ma looked out over the water through the shop’s back window. Then she came back with a jolly chuckle and said, “She sure did! She grew claws and teeth and put on her bearskin and she gobbled him right up!”
Wynne was little enough to believe it, and started to shake. Not cry, mind you, because brothers just loved it when you cried, but it was sure hard. She said determinedly, “I shall become a bear too and fight her!”
Dafydd barked a laugh and swung her up onto his shoulder. She nearly hit the ceiling, but she didn’t care. “There’s the Lakeman spirit, baby bear! You’ll make some strapping lad one fierce terror of a wife some day.”
My nickname in Basic Training was Baby Fat.
“Well flud me!” The quartermaster said as Private Cook darkened his door. “I should just give up and dress you three sizes up to save the Navy coin.”
She grinned as she stood with her back ramrod straight and her head half a foot higher than it had been. She quoted the old saying, “Them that bloom latest, bloom biggest.”
“Well you can just stop blooming! Especially… um…” he stared a bit at the newest addition to Private Cook. It was an addition his soldiers rarely added. She reddened and crossed her arms.
“Can’t help that, I am afraid.”
He thought fast. “Look. I’m sending you on a day’s leave to my wife on Crown Street. Up by the playhouse, got it? Tell her to… um. Show you what to do with those. Understood?”
She got redder but said stoically, “Understood. Thank you, Sergeant.”
He scribbled and order and handed it to her, looking everywhere but there. “Just go now and take care of it, right?”
She was awfully embarrassed, that much was obvious, but she came back with, “I’ll make them regulation soon as possible.”
Regulation bosoms. He sent her off with roaring laughter, and she found on her return that “Private Baby Fat’s Regulation Bosoms” were the joke of the year when she got back. She made damn sure she laughed loudest.
And I had a pet fish named Mr. Scaley.
“ROAR!” her bare feet slapped in a furious patter as she chased her terrified little brother with Mr. Scaley tied to her mother’s mop handle.
-Not FUNNY!- his baby hands signed in protest. He’d picked up sign ages before he figured out proper speech, much to his parent’s chagrin and his sister’s delight. She adored him, and therefore she terrorized him at every opportunity.
“ROAR!” she bellowed with all her lungs, and hoped it sounded as loud outside as it did in her head. The attention they were getting seemed to indicate that she had.
Broddi stumbled, then took a fall off the dock into the canal. He came up like a cork and paddled easily, but looked like he might cry. He pointed up to a point behind her back, and she saw a crowd of teasing children laughing. At her brother! Nobody fludding laughs at her brother.
“ROAR!” she gave fair warning, then rushed the center of the gaggle with all the force she could. She knocked a few off, then smacked a few more in with her stick-mounted dragon. She said, trying to pretend she could hear herself and paying attention to the feel of the words so they came out clear, “That’s my stupid brother. Sod off!”
She took her spanking very well.