Daddy's study

I mentioned before that the church made a study for my father in the church building. I suppose I was 5 or 6 at the time. Prior to that dad studied in the house.

I also mentioned that the attic was finished and there were two rooms up there. One was heated, one wasn't. Prior to the time my sister and I took up residence in the heated part of the attic, my father studied up there. He had a desk set up at the top of the stairs and the bedroom furniture that my sister and I used was also up there.

One day -- it's very vivid in my mind -- my dad was "baby sitting" my sister and I. Deb was just learning to walk and was in diapers -- not Pampers. Now, folks, diapers were messy things. They weren't the kind of cloth diapers you can get now (maybe). Instead they were a long sheet of cheese cloth and you had to fold it small enough to fit on the child it was intended to be worn by. And in order to protect those folks who would hold the child, they slipped over the top of these cloth things, rubber -- yes rubber -- pants, not the plastic things with elastic legs they came up with in the mid-50s. They didn't really work very well unless the child had really fat legs, which Debbie didn't.

Anyway, on this particular day, apparently Deb had a case of diarrhea and all of a sudden she let go. Poor daddy. He wasn't prepared for this. I remember he yelled for my mom, who was downstairs cleaning, I suppose, and had just had dad watch us so she could get her work done. I ran down the attic stairs to get mom, and dad followed behind me holding my sister at arm's length so he wouldn't get any "stuff" (baxy) on himself and handed her to my mother, while he stormed that she had dumped all over the floor in his study. While he was holding her away from him, she was still dripping, so there was a trail down the stairs as well. If only, he had let her stay where she was.

Poor mom. Poor dad. Poor Deb. Me? I was thinking of this at 2:30 a.m. today and started laughing. I'm still laughing. You had to know my meticulous, fastidious father. You have to visualize him holding this one-year-old child, who didn't have a clue what she'd done to bring out the "other side" of her daddy, away from him, hoping against hope that she wouldn't spoil his suit as she had dirtied his floor.

Mom cleaned up both the baby and the floor and all went back to normal quickly. Dad went back to his studying, and Deb and I went back to playing on the floor in the attic while dad studied.

Deb: Don't be angry with me for relating this story. I'm sure you don't remember this at all, but I do, and really if you could remember how funny daddy looked holding you away from him, and you didn't know at all why he was in such a state. It really was funny.