Published: August 19, 2008 11:51 am            

WHITE-WALKER: We called, somewhere along the way to Texas

Admit it, some family members are just big connivers and we, like jerks, allow ourselves to be drawn into their shenanigans. Isn’t it wonderful that we’re so spineless that we reap the benefits of our own stupidity?

We call my sister Mary Paula (MP) the big M for manipulator, because she can talk anybody into anything. She keeps our entire family in a perpetual state of motion, and when she’s not around, we all flush our pep pills and high blood pressure medicine right down the toilet because the activity level is well, level. But after a while, things become stagnant and we need our “fix” — her.

A few years ago she was visiting this area from Houston. It was when Mom and Dad still lived here, but she talked them into moving to Texas. See what I mean about her persuasive powers.

Well, on the morning she was scheduled to fly out she asked me to ride with her and Mom to the airport. How I wish I could say that I slipped into a cute little number, but the truth is, I stuffed myself into a pair of stretch jeans with the elastic waistband and I threw on a shirt that puckered across the bust line.

Darn that pasta. It’s my nemesis for not having an irresistible figure. I’m telling you all this to set the stage for what some men might consider reasons for a divorce. Insecure men, that is, God love ’em.

With about $4 in my pocket and ill-fitting clothes, the three of us headed for what I thought was the airport. How foolish and naïve of me to think that someone with a plane ticket would actually be flying to their destination. But Mom and I were traveling with the big M, we should have suspected something. Excitedly, Mary turned to me.

“Hey Karen, why don’t you fly back with me to Houston? I’ll just put your ticket on my charge card, and tomorrow night, we can be at the Lovin’ concert.”

We turned toward Mom who looked like one of those rejects who are always picked last for their school’s sports team.

“Gee Mom, I didn’t ask you because ... hey Ma, wanna come, too? We could all just drive there and … ”

“Hot rod Mamma” revved the engine and we whizzed right past the airport — so help me God, we did. Southwest, that’s the direction we were heading when it should have been the airlines that Mary was boarding. With no clothes or money, but with MP’s luggage and charge card, we should worry. We should have been frantic because there were two dreaded phone calls to make — to our husbands.

Mom has always been a stellar example to her children, stressing integrity, but we decided we needed to concoct a fairly believable story to explain why we wouldn’t be home for supper — for two weeks at least.

In Erie, Mom phoned Dad while I phoned my husband.

“Shel,” Mom said with a straight face.

“Honey,” I said on the other phone.

“We’re in Columbus, Ohio,” lied Mom.

“Columbus, Ohio,” I echoed.

If we had said Erie, the men would have insisted we turn the car around, we were still so close to home, but my model mother continued.

“Shel, just before Mary was to board the plane it was experiencing mechanical problems. I just knew you’d never forgive me if I had allow her to get on, so we’re driving her to Houston.”

No wonder Mom has lost her hearing in her right ear, the way Dad yelled.

(To be continued)

Karen White-Walker is a Wilson resident.

        

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