Niki

One of my earliest memories that I can vividly recall was sitting on the orange couch in the house in Brookfield reading with you, Mom. I remember that it was before dinner, and you said that you only had time for one book and I had to run and pick out the ones that I wanted the best. I picked two because I knew that if I brought them both over that you’d read them both. It’s weird, but I remember that one of them was the Pokey Little Puppy and I’m not sure why that detail has stayed in my mind, So, we read the books together. You were sitting in the middle of the couch and I was on the right side of you, leaning over, looking at the pictures. I remember when you were done, you had to go to make dinner and I was sad, but then I scooted over to your spot on the couch so I could look at the books by myself. I was excited that the spot was still warm. In my head, that was the “Mom Spot.” and I said to myself- and held this as a standard for a very long time afterwards- that someday I’d be grown up enough to make the couch warm too. That became for me the standard of a grown up, the leaving behind of a warm spot on the couch, that and eating nacho cheese dip. You would eat it after all the kids went to bed and I remember thinking that it’s not fair that grown ups get to eat all the cheese dip they want and not have to share with the kids. I honestly think it was the beginning of my obsession with nachos.

I can also remember that before bed, when Kel and I were in the bunk beds in the same house, that you would tell us stories. When we were lucky, you’d make up a Suzie and Sally story for us. I remember that Suzie and Sally were two little girls who were sisters and they’d go on adventures together. They were the same ages as me and Kel and even though the stories were about them, we always knew that they were about us. I remember one with a frog who had a golden ball that the girls found and they debated whether or not to give the ball back to the frog.  After the stories, you’d tuck us into the bunk beds. I was on the bottom and Kel was on the top.If we were good ( which I’m sure, now looking back meant, if you weren’t exhausted after dealing with us all day,),you’d sing us a lullabye and I remember you had the most beautiful voice in the world. You told us that when you were in school that you were in the choir and I wanted to grow up to be in a choir too because that’s where “they”give you the good voice.  Kelly and I swear that you sang us the tuck in song. “ Tuck me in my own little bed, so that you can just see my head. Place a kiss on each tiny cheek, cover me up and I’ll go to sleep.” That song just means bedtime to me.

Now every night before bed, Asher and I have a routine. After bath and getting pjs on,I read two stories in the rocking chair ( He’ll run to the chair to get to it before I do, then I tickle him out of it). We say prayers together and talk about our family rules and then we sing the Tuck in song I remember from being little. He puts his hands on his head at the place in the song, blows me kisses and then puts his head down and turns on Scout. The routine has evolved from when he was tiny, but he’s always had the tuck in song before he goes down.  He usually gets up and plays after I shut the door, just like Kelly and I would. We would pretend that the bed was a rocket ship taking off for the moon and we’d both climb into her bunk and jump off, landing on the moon or we’d jump off pretending to be the monkeys on the bed until you came in and told us to go to sleep.

Another memory I have from growing up was dancing time. I remember it most clearly upstairs in the house in Glendale Heights, but vaguely in Itasca as well. You and John would put on music that we liked- usually the Beach Boys but also Cherry Bomb, which was great because we could sit on the giant speakers and feel the base. We’d all run around in circles and sing at the top of our lungs. I never thought how annoying that could have been to you guys until recently, but you never seemed to mind us losing it over silly music. In that house in Glendale Heights, I remember once when Art Manzy Junior came over. We were hanging out in the driveway, and I vaguely remember a kiddie pool we were all splashing in. So Art showed up and came to talk to us for some reason and he sat down in the tiny red kids’ chair. We pretty much politely ignored him and he tried to get up and go to the house and the chair stuck on his butt. This was pretty much the funniest thing ever to us and we made fun of him for weeks, calling him “ Art the Fart”.