Triple Threat

No, I have not added dancing to my resume. I’m the child my mother swiftly moved from ballet to gymnastics and then to softball. I'm referring to a different kind of triple threat.

I was glancing back through photographs and was reminded of the triple threat Ginger that existed from 6th-8th grade. Glasses, braces, and bangs. It’s a sight to behold. And yet I maintained my relatively popular status until my departure to high school. How is this possible you ask? Private school, 20 kids in my whole class, popularity was almost a given, even if you brought Vienna sausages for lunch.

I went to the same private school from 3-year old preschool through 8th grade. The building had two stories and the playground was fitted with monster truck tires painted in primary colors. We went to chapel every Wednesday morning and watched safari films on reels on occasional Friday afternoons.

In 1st-4th grade we ate lunch at 11:30, the older grades at noon. We weren't allowed to trade food. I'm not sure if this was a private school choice, a Christian school rule, or a Lutheran school mandate. Regardless, I can still remember my heart pounding as Mrs. Short hauled Katie McQuillen and myself into the hallway after we tried to trade oreos for chocolate chip cookies. We were properly admonished and sent back to the table. This may have stopped me for a time, but the years brought skill and confidence to our underground ring. I spent 8 years in that lunch room and we always traded.

Even if you weren't allowed to trade at your school I bet you probably did not have a stoplight in your lunchroom. The stoplights' colors, controlled by the teachers, registered the appropriate sound levels. Rowdy lunches were simply quieted by a yellow light and eventually silenced by the red.

And even in the midst of these sanctions on volume and free trade, we still managed to eat, grow, and turn out fairly normal, at least most of us.

*Recipe for a Sodium Sandwich

2 pieces of wheat bread

Vienna Sausages halved and laid on bread

Frito's brand corn chips

1 slice of American cheese

Combine all in sandwich, eat, and enjoy. (Eating too frequently can cause heart problems)

Salty

I know that it's possible to imagine bits of one's past through rose colored glasses. I'm sure my own memories are swayed by photographs and images that take over the actual reality. But what I don't understand is why I would make up or imagine something that has very little significance.

I tend to get canker sores, you know, the horrible little things that make eating and sometimes speaking detestable? Mine tend to surface in groups of three to six at a time. I know, lovely topic of conversation. Every couple of months I am attacked by them, whether from stress or acidic food, I'm not sure, but they come and threaten my very livelihood.

The last time this happened when I was visiting my parents, I walked into the kitchen to prepare the remedy I had been taught as a child. I selected a small glass from the cabinet, poured in a teaspoon or so of salt, and then ran the faucet with as hot of water as possible. Once the steam was rising I placed my glass of salt underneath the water and filled it 3/4 of the way full. I then took a mouthful of the salt-water and swished it around in my mouth. I repeated this until I had used all of the water from the glass. I'm not sure if my mom walked in while I was doing this, or if I told her that I had "medicated" the sores.

Mom: "Why did you do that?"

Ginger: "Because that's what we've always done for canker sores."

Mom: "Why?"

Ginger: "That's what you told us to do when we were growing up!"

Mom: "WHAT? NO!!"

Ginger: "Are you kidding me? We've done this our whole lives. Maybe 10 times a year."

Mom: "NO! Why would I tell you to do that?"

Ginger: "WHY WOULD I MAKE THAT UP?"

And so, I pose the question to you, reader: Why would I make something like that up? The memory is vivid. I think I can even see my mother making up the glass of salt-water for me. I know I can. The amazing thing about my mysterious memory...my sister remembers it too. Sorry Kerry. It happened. You taught it to us. And now, you are reading this on saltwatercoke...