GRACIE’S FEED-SACK UNDERWEAR
Raising seven girls in the 1950’s was a challenge for my mother. And it was a challenge for each of us to get her undivided attention. We learned at an early age that “being sick” was the fastest and best way to get the special attention that only a mother can give when her child is ill. But we didn’t know until we were older, that our mother was an expert Psychologist!
“Gracie, your freckles are barely showin this morning,” noted Ellie as she put her open palm on Gracie’s forehead. “Do you feel all right?”
“Mommy, I’m real sick,” said Gracie, “could I just go back to bed, . . and would you get me a drink of water?”
Gracie, the third daughter, was six years old and had just entered first grade the week before. She was not at all happy about going to school.
Ellie looked at the palm she had just placed on Gracie’s forehead and saw a slight trace of biscuit flour. She smiled when she realized the reason for the faded freckles on Gracie’s face. As she walked to the back porch to get a dipper of water from the bucket her oldest daughter had just carried from the spring, she thought of all the work to be done. It was Monday - wash day - the reason Carol, the oldest of her daughters, was allowed to stay home from school. She glanced at the half finished load of laundry piled up beside the wringer washing machine. At least she had one load already in the rinsing tub. “Carol, would you run that load of clothes from the rinse tub through the wringers, then hang’em out to dry while I dress Gracie?” “I’m gonna have to take her to the doctor”, she said loud enough that Gracie was sure to hear. “She’s real sick.” “She’ll probably have to get a shot.”
Gracie had never been to the doctor. In those days, students were bused to the Health Clinic for their required vaccinations. The word shot brought fear to her heart. Her sister, Sue, the second daughter just eighteen months older than Gracie, had phenomena back in the winter and she’d heard her mother talk about how the doctor had to give her shots and how she’d almost died! “This is not goin as planned,” thought Gracie, “all I wanted was to stay home from school and get Mommy to feel a little bit sorry for me.”
As Ellie went thru the few clean clothes Gracie had in her dresser drawer, her thoughts came out in spoken words. “Now surely I can find one clean pair of underwear that I bought at the Federated Store for special occasions.” “ I’d hate for her to have to go to the doctor wearing a pair of them panties I made from feed sacks.” “Them sacks come in handy after they’ve been emptied of the hog feed and washed up real good.”
“Oh, no,” thought Gracie. She had worn a pair of the feed-sack panties to school and everybody laughed when she fell down and her dress flew up over her head. “If I go to the doctor today, not only will I die from gettin a shot, but the doctor will laugh when he sees my underwear.”
Her thoughts were interrupted when Ellie said, “Oh, here they are, Gracie.” “Here’s a clean pair; let’s slip’em on real quick and get to the doctor so I can hurry back home and finish my washin.” Gracie stepped into the underwear Ellie was holding, all the time trying to figure out how to end her deception. Ellie hurriedly slipped a yellow cotton dress over Gracie’s head and pulled it down to her knees. Gracie pulled the dress back up and looked down at the front of the panties hoping the emblem from the feed sack wasn’t visible. It wasn’t! “Thank goodness,” she said out loud.
Gracie liked the yellow dress, but the underwear was so irritating! All of a sudden she had the urge to scratch her butt and pee at the same time. “I’ve got to go to the toilet,” she told her mother. “All right, but hurry up,” snapped Ellie!” “ I’ve got work to do.” Her plan of action was taking a little longer than she thought it would.
There in the outhouse, Gracie realized her worst fears. Her underwear did have an emblem from the feed sack! The hog’s snout, little beady eyes, and pointed ears lined up perfectly across her buttocks.
Back in the kitchen Ellie cleaned up breakfast dishes while she waited for Gracie to return. Gracie came back carrying her underwear in one hand and holding her dress down with the other. “Mommy, I think I’m feelin a little better,” said Gracie. “I think I may be able to go to school, but I’ll have to have some good panties, cause I accidentally got these wet.”
“Well, let’s have a look at you.” said Ellie. “Wash your hands here in this soapy water, and I’ll wash your face real good.” “Yes, Sirree, Gracie!” Ellie said when she looked into her clean face. “I think you are better, your freckles are just a shinin.” “Here, I found a pair of them Federated panties.” “Thank the Good Lord you’re feeling better!” “We won’t have to make a trip to the doctor today.”
My mother used her psychology skills with four more daughters after she taught Gracie there are things in life much worse than going to school. Did I mention she also raised four sons? Year after year she improved and with that improvement, she gave each of us our own story of that special attention that only a mother can give when her child is ill.
Raising seven girls in the 1950’s was a challenge for my mother. And it was a challenge for each of us to get her undivided attention. We learned at an early age that “being sick” was the fastest and best way to get the special attention that only a mother can give when her child is ill. But we didn’t know until we were older, that our mother was an expert Psychologist!
“Gracie, your freckles are barely showin this morning,” noted Ellie as she put her open palm on Gracie’s forehead. “Do you feel all right?”
“Mommy, I’m real sick,” said Gracie, “could I just go back to bed, . . and would you get me a drink of water?”
Gracie, the third daughter, was six years old and had just entered first grade the week before. She was not at all happy about going to school.
Ellie looked at the palm she had just placed on Gracie’s forehead and saw a slight trace of biscuit flour. She smiled when she realized the reason for the faded freckles on Gracie’s face. As she walked to the back porch to get a dipper of water from the bucket her oldest daughter had just carried from the spring, she thought of all the work to be done. It was Monday - wash day - the reason Carol, the oldest of her daughters, was allowed to stay home from school. She glanced at the half finished load of laundry piled up beside the wringer washing machine. At least she had one load already in the rinsing tub. “Carol, would you run that load of clothes from the rinse tub through the wringers, then hang’em out to dry while I dress Gracie?” “I’m gonna have to take her to the doctor”, she said loud enough that Gracie was sure to hear. “She’s real sick.” “She’ll probably have to get a shot.”
Gracie had never been to the doctor. In those days, students were bused to the Health Clinic for their required vaccinations. The word shot brought fear to her heart. Her sister, Sue, the second daughter just eighteen months older than Gracie, had phenomena back in the winter and she’d heard her mother talk about how the doctor had to give her shots and how she’d almost died! “This is not goin as planned,” thought Gracie, “all I wanted was to stay home from school and get Mommy to feel a little bit sorry for me.”
As Ellie went thru the few clean clothes Gracie had in her dresser drawer, her thoughts came out in spoken words. “Now surely I can find one clean pair of underwear that I bought at the Federated Store for special occasions.” “ I’d hate for her to have to go to the doctor wearing a pair of them panties I made from feed sacks.” “Them sacks come in handy after they’ve been emptied of the hog feed and washed up real good.”
“Oh, no,” thought Gracie. She had worn a pair of the feed-sack panties to school and everybody laughed when she fell down and her dress flew up over her head. “If I go to the doctor today, not only will I die from gettin a shot, but the doctor will laugh when he sees my underwear.”
Her thoughts were interrupted when Ellie said, “Oh, here they are, Gracie.” “Here’s a clean pair; let’s slip’em on real quick and get to the doctor so I can hurry back home and finish my washin.” Gracie stepped into the underwear Ellie was holding, all the time trying to figure out how to end her deception. Ellie hurriedly slipped a yellow cotton dress over Gracie’s head and pulled it down to her knees. Gracie pulled the dress back up and looked down at the front of the panties hoping the emblem from the feed sack wasn’t visible. It wasn’t! “Thank goodness,” she said out loud.
Gracie liked the yellow dress, but the underwear was so irritating! All of a sudden she had the urge to scratch her butt and pee at the same time. “I’ve got to go to the toilet,” she told her mother. “All right, but hurry up,” snapped Ellie!” “ I’ve got work to do.” Her plan of action was taking a little longer than she thought it would.
There in the outhouse, Gracie realized her worst fears. Her underwear did have an emblem from the feed sack! The hog’s snout, little beady eyes, and pointed ears lined up perfectly across her buttocks.
Back in the kitchen Ellie cleaned up breakfast dishes while she waited for Gracie to return. Gracie came back carrying her underwear in one hand and holding her dress down with the other. “Mommy, I think I’m feelin a little better,” said Gracie. “I think I may be able to go to school, but I’ll have to have some good panties, cause I accidentally got these wet.”
“Well, let’s have a look at you.” said Ellie. “Wash your hands here in this soapy water, and I’ll wash your face real good.” “Yes, Sirree, Gracie!” Ellie said when she looked into her clean face. “I think you are better, your freckles are just a shinin.” “Here, I found a pair of them Federated panties.” “Thank the Good Lord you’re feeling better!” “We won’t have to make a trip to the doctor today.”
My mother used her psychology skills with four more daughters after she taught Gracie there are things in life much worse than going to school. Did I mention she also raised four sons? Year after year she improved and with that improvement, she gave each of us our own story of that special attention that only a mother can give when her child is ill.