But... back to this photo, I know my socks were wet because a particular puddle of slush called my name as I jumped off a doorstep and the edge of my shoes got submerged. My Mom said “Oh Melanie, now you’re going to have wet socks all day...”
All day it was. My Mom was an Avon lady. It was delivery day. I loved the start of this day when the doorbell would ding and she would get her big Avon order in the mail. Back then, (my how things have changed!) she would hand out little Avon catalogs to all of her clients and they would phone in their order that she would hand write in her tablet and then call in at the end of the month. When the box came, I got to pretend that I was a little Avon lady too by putting together the orders. We would lay it all out on the dining room table and she would open up 20 or so empty Avon bags, and read aloud the contents of each persons order. It was my job to find the items and place them in the bag. I’d be in my pajamas sitting on the table ready to work. She would say “ok let’s find the bottle of pink bubble bath, ok that goes in this bag. And now we need a roll-on deodorant with the green cap, can you find the green cap? Ok that’s it, put it in this bag, and how many chap-sticks do we have? Can you separate them by the colors?....” and so on. We would tear off the carbon copy receipt and slip new Avon brochures in the bags and load them in the backseat of our big white Cordoba and off we’d go to deliver.
The memories I have of helping her deliver Avon items are in bits and pieces. You see, I’m not sure that my Mom actually sold Avon to make money as much as she did for the joy in it. She liked people. She liked chatting. She liked staying busy and she really did love Avon products, so why not sell them? My Mom loved interacting with people. If it was a profession to make small talk she’d be the president. Sometimes I’d be holding onto her leg, pulling at her coat for an entire 20 minutes as she chitty-chatted away during one of those “Avon deliveries” as if the day was timeless. It was like a house-hopping talking fest all day long. Lots of conversations. Lots of houses.
One lady’s home had a really intricate doll house. An antique I was told. It was taller than me and beautiful. I was told to “just look” but as soon as they left the room I was touching everything. I had to see if the dinner plates were glued to the table and the bedding was as soft as it looked. Do the cupboards open? Do the knobs turn? It was magical.
One place had a bunch of really loud kids, I think it was a daycare or something and this woman would keep yelling at random children “Tell Johnny to get off the roof!” “Turn off those cartoons and do some homework!” “If you don’t stop running up and down those stairs I’m going to ground you for 2 weeks!” I didn’t like this woman at all. I wondered why she was so angry. She had messy hair and looked tired. I also recall a box of Twinkies on her kitchen table and wondered when she would offer me one. I’m a kid. That’s what people do right? Nope, never got one. Like I said, I didn’t like the lady.
One house had a little boy with no hand. Really. He came running down the stairs and instead of a hand holding the banister, he had this stub that ran along the railing. I wondered if he could feel a tickle at his wrist. It was his right hand and I remember thinking, “What if he was right handed? That would be so hard to have to learn how to draw with your left hand.” When we drove away I remember telling my Mom that he had no hand and I thought it looked the end of a hot-dog. She sort of paused and shut her eyes a bit with a half smile which she would do when she found something sort of amusing but didn’t want to acknowledge the humor. Then she’d say “Oh Melanie.” shaking her head and remind me how lucky I was to have both of my hands.
One house always smelled like fried hamburger even though there was nothing on the stove. I could never figure that one out.
And then there was this one time I’ll never forget. This was the day I felt embarrassment for the first time. Mom was on a chatting rampage even though she put the Avon order on this woman’s kitchen table 30 minutes ago. I felt antsy, my jeans were too tight and I was tired of playing around with these big tower blocks in the living room. I figured I’d hint at my impatience by crawling up on her lap. I was sitting on my Mom’s lap, sort of uncomfortably swaying from cheek to cheek. I thought I was sitting on a pair of her mittens or something. Finally my Mom had me stand up and looked at my bottom and saw this bulge so she pulled out the back of my jeans and saw that a balled up pair of underwear (with pink flowers on them) was shoved up the back of my pants. Must have gotten stuck in the leg in the dryer she said. She pulled out this pair of underwear, held them up and she and her friend started laughing as my Mom said “I thought something was in there!” I was 3 years old and red with embarrassment especially since the underwear thing was such an object of pride for me as I was officially potty trained (in a day) and a BIG GIRL now, hello. They still chatted for another 30 minutes or so but at least my jeans didn’t feel so tight....
Back to the photo though! I don’t know who the person was that took it, only that we had delivered an Avon order to her and were walking back to the car (note the white Cordoba in the background) and she wanted us to take a quick photo. My Mom smiled gently and said “Well ok” and quickly picked me up. As soon as we got into the car I was about to tell her that I was hungry when she said “I bet you want a bologna sandwich don’t you?” I remember believing that my Mom could read my mind because that’s exactly what I was thinking. So then I was trying to think all of these random thoughts and see if she’d pipe up with some more miraculous mind-reading skills. I remember I kept saying the word "red" over and over in my mind to see if she'd ask me why I was thinking about the color red. But nothing happened.....
Until we got home and she said “I bet you want to get out of those wet socks don’t you?” She was spot on!
For this photo, on this day, these are the things I remember: Wanting to be an Avon lady when I grew up but knowing that I would just put their order on the front step and get on with the day, having a mad craving for a bologna sandwich and thinking my magical mind reading Mom was the greatest woman in the world.
I wish she was here to read this.
Here’s to hoping she can still read my mind.
