Yesterday I forgot Ma’s medicine at the cabin and didn’t realize it until I got all the way into town. Idiot! Thus I had to drive back with Ma in the swirling snow last night. Of course my brother was there taking full advantage of my not being there, his big old truck blocking the driveway. Surprised him!
Anyway, I set the alarm very early to get in to work this morning as it takes well over an hour to get there from the cabin. The county had the roads cleared well, we only got a couple inches. I cruised up the ramp onto the Parkway, four lanes with little traffic. I set the cruise control on 70 and relaxed some. I pointed out
snowplows to Ma, I pointed out chilly flocks of birds. Then a big pick-up passed me.
This huge black Guzzlero 350 had prominent mirrors on either side. I told Ma those giant mirrors had turn signals incorporated, so the guy must pull a trailer. To have them that nice installed instead of the clip-on kind, he must haul something valuable, regularly.
The pick-up wasn’t the newest model, but had the appearance of being kept up. The black body gleamed, the chrome shone through the crusted snow, no dings or rust. With those mirrors he had to pull a long trailer and have enough money to maintain the truck, the trailer and whatever he hauls. Horses. Maybe he had a line on some horses for sale and was on the way to give them an experienced look.
Meanwhile, his wife accepts yet another Amway box from the UPS carrier that knows her name and asks how her sniffly rat dog is doing. “He died”, she told him, and then thanked him for her wonderful package. She wanted to sell Amway but all her neighbors avoid her anymore. She gave Shelly artful make-up sets, lip glosses and blushes for her wan face every Christmas, birthday, Easter and Earth Day and many cologne arrays to her son; he’s only 12 but was growing into it.
Shelly opens the front door, sees the boxful of all night mascaras and pineapple candles and feels the strong urge to go right back out before Ma looks up. Too late. “Hi, Ma.”
“Look honey, I got you these nice gloves that match this bracelet that matches this necklace that goes with this combination flashlight and Pumpkin Spritzer for your purse!”
Dad walks in and shakes off the snow, a rotten habit that makes the carpet soggy and it 
catches so much dirt. “Hey Shelly! Arnie Butz up in Fordsville has a spunky appaloosa that he’s gotta sell to get his wife some kind of exotic medicine. Dunno, but he’s selling it rock bottom. Help me hook the trailer up and let’s go get it!”
Shelley slumped, ‘There goes more of my meager inheritance.’ Aloud, she said, “Sorry Dad, Ma and I were heading out for breakfast. It’s the eleventh anniversary of my braces coming off and I need to celebrate. We might get some shopping in after that. Want to come along?”
“Hell no! You girls have fun, I can get this myself.” He goes out mumbling.
After a country ham and scrambled egg breakfast, Ma insists on going to the Goodwill. Shelly knows better but relents. Surely all of the Amway plunder Ma had sent her over the years and had donated was off the shelves, in some other ditzy woman’s house.
Ma got a cart because she didn’t like using a cane, it made he appear old. She leans on it and starts wandering. In the geegaw aisle, there laid in a perfect row, were the 1999, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012 and 2016 versions of Santa’s Favorite never-opened lip gloss in hot pink. “Shelly, looky there! I wonder why some are missing?”
Shelly knew…
Ah, end of the Parkway, click off of cruise control, coming into town and traffic. Isn’t funny how a mirror on a passing truck can make a tedious drive more bearable?
To what do my wondering eyes appear? 3/4 of a carton of leftover potluck rocky road? Oh my, whatever shall I do with it? As mentioned last week – hide the bathroom scales for a 
How Would You Do It? 