"Aunt Mad Chronicles II"

"Put that l'il fella on my big titties dusted with Bloomingdale's finest. I'm a 'gonna rock him to sleep."

Yes, Aunt Mad was proud of her big mammary glands. And never skipped a beat to advertise them. She had never had kids. Why?-I was never privy to that information, but when a young pubescent v.c. arrived, she latched onto me as her own. She would recount this story many a time as we were cruisin' down the hiways and biways of the deep south. "L'il fella, [ that was my pet name ] I used to rock you to sleep on these big titties. Have a gingerbread man!"

Aunt Mad used to hang her wash on her back porch. And hang it she did sans bra. At least she wore panties. It was a daily ritual. And she didn't care if the world saw those big titties-she was damn proud of them and was gonna show 'em off.

"If it don't have a green stem, we ain't buying it."

If we stopped at a produce stand off the beaten track in Wakula Springs, Florida or took a trip to the Farmer's Market, when we bought a watermelon, it had to have a green stem. No green stem-no dice. And when you thumped it, it had to have just the right sound. Aunt Mad always closely inspected every watermelon. No matter if it had stripes, or if it was round, each one had to pass the tests: green stem and thump!

"How much you want for them melons, Mister?"

"3 for a dollar. lady."

"Shit!"

If she didn't like the price, we'd drive off until we found another stand.

"How much for them melons, Mister?"

"4 for a dollar, m'am."

"L'il fella, put them goddamn watermelons in the trunk, but make sure that sob don't switch 'em out with ones without green stems. I done thumped 'em and they is good."

Sometimes the lecherous bastards would try to dupe us by substituting some brown stemmed ones, but Aunt Mad would stand guard as they were meticulously placed into the trunk of the car. Plus, you didn't ever want to push her buttons, which were always smouldering and easy to catch fire.

"Pee Turkey-Squat One"

This was another phrase that Aunt Mad coined. I'm not sure to this day what it means, but I admit using it in my adult life:

"How long on fried chicken, fry cook?" [ former job of mine where greased poultry was a popular item ]"18 minutes." Which meant he hadn't dropped any and the staff and the guests were in for a long wait.

"Pee turkey, squat one."

And:

"How's the staffing today." [ same job ]

"Billy's cousin was shot 8 times and won't be coming in; Susie's on her period and won't be coming in; Freda's sister was in a car accident and won't be coming in; Linda's baby drank bleach and they rushed her to the hospital and she won't be coming in; Fred's in jail-seems he hasn't been going to his probation officer; Darwin, asst mgr. came to work but pooed [ soiled ] his pants ] and won't be coming back today; and the district manager came by and said the place was filthy and needs cleaning up and all of us need to stay even if it takes all night; and look, there's the health inspector."

"Pee turkey, squat one."

The ceramic ditty was a good 12 inches high. It was of an older colonial couple-pre-Revolutionary War days- at least in their 60's. They appeared posh and well-to-do as they stood next to each other in a pose. Both wore wigs reminiscent of that day and were dressed as if they were headed to a party at George Washington's manor. The woman in question had on one of those dresses with the slips, girdles, and other constraints underneath, while the gentleman sported his gear with short pants and sox to his knees. Our damsel in distress also wore a quizzical look on her face. Turn the statue around and the well-bred gentleman had his hand up m'lady's dress.

"You like that, l'il fella?"

I was too young to know much about the birds and bees at that time in my young life, but I knew it was risque, invoking a thrill for a young lad. Remember me and Bogus Bob had shown each other our buttocks under the warehouse, so I was intrigued by this mystical harbinger.

"Lay that l'il fella on my big titties, dusted with Bloomingdale's finest."

No wonder I always need a pillow to rest my head on. Pee turkey, squat one.