He Asked!

August 27, 2009

My brother-in-law Greg, visiting us one day complained he had not had a drive in my car. Well, there’s no better time than now, say’s I. So off we went, up, down, in, out, all over the city chatting and driving.
Queen Elizabeth was visiting Halifax on that lovely summer day. Consequently every police officer in the city of Halifax was called out to duty for the special occasion. I tapped on the horn and waved to the five or six officers on every block. After a time Greg asked; “Do you know all those policemen?”
“Heck no” I replied. “I don’t have a driver’s license. I wave so they think they know me and by the time they realize they don’t, I’ll be long gone.”
“Oh!” Greg said in a strangled voice.
I looked over and was surprised to see his face had paled. Now slumped down in the seat he said; It’s getting late I have to get back.”
I continued to beep and wave all the way home. Greg sat very quietly beside me. I hardly had the car parked when he was out and in the house expressing his sentiments to my brother who didn’t give a verbal response but simply smiled a little smile.
On a beautiful warm Sunday morning Mom and I were attired in our Sunday best. Fixing my large brimmed straw hat on my head I called out to her.
“I’m ready to leave.”
Pulling on a pair of white cotton gloves I thought,
“What a treat not to have to climb the steep hill to church or to have to wait for a bus.”
We admired the beautiful day as we climbed into my little green car and then off we went feeling very happy. We had hardly gone three blocks when my little car suddenly stopped right smack in the middle of the street.
Removing my gloves I climbed out of my shiny little green car and peered under its hood. Remembering all my brother had taught me I checked the battery cables, wiring, fan belts, and water hose but to no avail. Removing the carburettor cap I jammed a screw driver in to hold it open. Returning to the car I tried once again to start it. Much to our dismay the motor gave a groan as it came to life.
Looking down at my hands as I removed the screw driver and closed the hood I was dismayed at the amount of grease on them. Checking my watch I realized I would not have time to return home. We were already late for church.
I rubbed at the thick black grease. It clung imbedded in my hands and under my nails, everywhere! In desperation with my mother’s help I thrust those grimy hands into my white cotton gloves. And then, gripping the steering wheel, I made haste to church.
Who would have thought beneath the sparkling white gloves there was…
After mass had concluded, mom and I shook hands as was the practice with priests and neighbours alike. When I quickly stole a glance at my gloved hands I found the white cotton gloves were no more. I was now sporting a brand new cow patterned glove. I rushed my mother away before anyone could discover that they too were sporting new spotted gloves.


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