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monee, il: my mom's superior memory

As usual, my mom has an illuminating version of events I only barely remember:

It was corn stalks in the field, the source of corn syrup. You were very cute sitting in the middle of the field sucking on the stalks.

Also, the windmill was the well pump, no longer in use. It was a very tall black iron structure. One day, you were about two, you managed undetected to climb up most of the way and you were heading to the top. As you know, I do not like heights but there you were so I got up there as fast as I could and quietly so as not to alarm you. You and I made it to the top platform at about the same time and I locked my arm around your body. Then we both stopped and looked around. We could see the skyline of Chicago in the distance.

Although I did not choose to go up there and I was pretty scared, I did drink in the sight of the landscape and was glad for the experience. When we got down, I scolded you and you never went up there again.

The town was called Monee. It had a small main street with a diner. You had a little scam going and it took me quite a while to discover how you did it. Again, you were only two years old.

Dick and I would go to the diner once in a while. We would sit at a table and you would ask to sit at the counter until the food came. The waitress would call over, "Is it ok if he has a glass of orange juice?" I would nod yes. I would go over to collect you for dinner and some farmer had always bought you a glass of orange juice. Never pop or milk but a glass of orange juice. The two of you would be deep in conversation and the farmer (never the same one twice) would be laughing and apparently highly entertained. After this happened too often for it to be an accident or coincidence, I made sure to sit within earshot.

You sat at the counter swinging your little legs. You would greet your mark with some precocious statement and when the farmer responded, you chirped up with "My Mom says I can have a glass of orange juice". Of course, a glass of OJ was ordered and put on the guys tab. Pretty cool move. Dick and I laughed until our sides hurt.

Monee was truly a cool place, a restored farmhouse with a big yard and a vegetable garden and a barn with a rope to swing on high in the rafters. You only swung when someone was holding you. We were there less than a year and you and I moved in with Joni when we left. That was the last place we lived with Dick.

You entries are recalling memories good and bad and I will stay with the charming stories because this is your tale of your memories of your Dad, not a chronicle of events.


Too funny and too cute! A con artist at two. Hmmmm....
What an awesome mother you have. Climbing up there and holding you and not scolding till you came down. Very sweet

Such a cute story! I used to do a similar thing when I was about three with my grandmother.. my mum would make me scambled eggs on Sunday morning (my favourite) and then take me over to Grandma's. Of course when I got there Grandma asked if I'd had breakfast and I'd lie and say no because I knew if I did she'd make me more scambled eggs :). Of course it's not as crafty as your tactics, but it did seem to work.

I love your childhood stories by the way. I'm really enjoying reading them.

beautiful stuff :)