mittens, no kittens

Money was tight; practically non-existent. Every trip to a store a choosing game. Bread or coffee (coffee). Weighing her down even more than the pain some days.  Then there were the energy/pain choosing games. Wash the floor or have a shower (shower).

Fog days. Her mind shrouded in a thick, dark grey mist. She might forget to pay a bill, or where she left her mittens. Hands became blue, orange and purple in the icy January air. No money to replace them. So she tripled up her one-of socks into thumb-less mis-matched mittens. She wondered, “Maybe I’ll start a trend.” 

Next pair of mittens, she’d attach together with a string so as not to loss one or both. “Idiot mittens,” her mother called them. “For idiots like you.” Then her mother sharply pulled the crotch to throat zipper of the stiff brown snow suit, and tell her to do up the buckles on her buckle snow boots. A fumbling job, at best.  Ugh.

Maybe no string; she wasn’t an idiot. Never had been.

edit or finish the post (finish). word count: 165

Written for Just Jot It January, hosted by Linda G. Hill. January 21: mittens, suggested by Candy at Rhymes With Bug.

 

© darkened house 2016

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5 thoughts on “mittens, no kittens

  1. Bill Cosby, the erstwhile comedian turned accused felon, talked about “idiot mittens” on one of his early albums. He said you could talk into one and hear yourself in the other, and that, if you found another kid wearing them, you could run up and pull on one hand and he’d hit himself in the face with the other.

    My wife is a knitter, and the cord that connects the idiot mittens is called an I-cord (“I” standing for “idiot”). It’s apparently a very useful thing, because in addition to using it to create a cord, you can use it as a border on a garment to finish it.

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  2. nasty memories …hopefully not grounded in reality …. but I have to say, I don’t recall losing my mittens often …. but the way you’ve described: “Then her mother sharply pulled the crotch to throat zipper of the stiff brown snow suit,” …
    now that is one dead on description! And yes, I remember those damn awful brown buckle snow boots ….. nasty business!

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    • Unfortunately, lots of truth in this one. I do have lots on unpleasant childhood memories. including those stupid snow suits and boots. I hated recess because it took awkward me at least 5 minutes to get all the winter gear on! And five to get off. Of course, everyone else shed their playground skins in seconds!
      And, traveling on a very tight budget one winter, I did lose my mittens (I’m a chronic loser — oops, that doesn’t sound quite right). So for several days, I was wearing socks on my hands til I got to a friend’s place. She lent me a pair of mittens which I mailed back to her when I got home.
      “Glad I got the snow suit feeling across,” she said. “It’s one of my childhood horror stories.”

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      • I’m sorry you have such awful memories … I too remember struggling with the damn outwear … to the nth degree.

        As for being a “loser” …. no – don’t be thinking it. So you may be prone to losing things … millions are – and it’s just so wrong that parental units and any others, choose to make this small and perhaps exasperating at times “misfortune” into something far more important than it needs to be. I’ll never understand how financial stress always falls and flows down to fall squarely on the shoulders of the kids. It’s not like you were deliberately doing it …. *sigh* ….

        anyhow …. I hope you are well., and maybe, this piece you’ve penned helps ease the load a bit.

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the time has come, the walrus said, to talk of many things . . .

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