My grandmother once referred to powdering her taint with a powder puff. I’ve always wanted a powder puff and I found out today what a taint is.
“T’aint your ass, and T’aint your twat but that area in between!”
Love my Mamaw Pauline!
She also had what she called a “whore” bath or a depression bath where you just washed the stinky parts! When you’re a mom, you’ll appreciate this!
Having been a child of the depression, raised by a blacksmith and inflicted with polio, and later becoming a WW II wife, my grandmother was indomitably strong. She always said what she thought with no filter at all. The people on the street in her small east Texas town simply called her Ms. Pauline. Back in the days of segregation and propriety, surely she was as misfit as her limp was to her beauty. She once told me that “Black people are as smart as white people, but they never had a chance.” And that, “All people like a little sex, even them fiddling with themselves or a tree. It feels good.”
(Pause, and breath)
The women in my family seem to all be indomitably strong but what else have we carried over from our southern roots? A deep drawl, an inability to keep our mouth shut, and a need to wear lipstick? No matter the occasion, we wear lipstick!
I remember walking into my parents house, home from my first visit from college, and my mother asking,
” You couldn’t put on a little lipstick for me?”
I was more than a little razzed, being a modern and upcoming professional at the brilliant age of 20. But as a southern belle and being a former pageant girl, I quickly coated my lips with the color of the early 90’s and everyone was happy!
My mother is the oldest of Pauline’s four daughters and my aunt, Kelly, is the youngest at just 7 years older than me. (My mom is far right with me, and Kelly is upper left with my little monster!) I thought Kelly was my sister until I was about 4, because my brother was actually 6 months older than her.
Ok.. Enough of the family tree..
**You know you’re Mormon if your mother and mother in law are both pregnant at your wedding, but you aren’t.**
My grandmother wasn’t Mormon, though she may have leaned towards it at the end, especially if she had lived past 63.
It’s just a joke! And not even a great one.
Had my grandmother been able bodied, I could have seen her as Rosy Riveter or any other pin up gal, but she had a heavy, but very proud limp from a foot atrophied by polio. She refused to use a cane but would hold your elbow stiffly, and she wore 3 inch wedge shoes all day while she was awake so she wouldn’t limp. I can’t imagine the hip or lower back pain she must have suffered her entire life!
She had two young daughters when my grandfather went to war, and I’ve heard stories of rations and letters and a broken man returned home. I later heard stories of a woman I never knew, of arguments and leaving, of leaving your kids in the car while you go into a bar. I think the war broke them both more than we ever will know. My grandmother outlived my grandfather by 6 years and I knew her the best then. Her wisdom about “boys” and her advise about sex, I find myself repeating but in a more modern, and professional manner to my own kids.
“The best form of birth control is an aspirin. Hold that thing between your knees, and don’t let it fall!”
(ME: But if you do drop it, use a condom!)
These stories keep us connected to the women in our life and our past, and will drive a husband crazy in about 2.4 seconds. We quip back and forth with one liners that “you had to be there” for and looks that mean only something we know!
These women are my friends, my relatives, my family, and my confidantes. We share love, loss, hope, prayers, curse words, recipes, work and history.
There’s nothing better than a family full of women!
Think! Live! Love!