Bad hair day…

Last week, I went to pick up my mother to take her to the Italian grocery on Franklin Avenue in Hartford.  D & D Market has moved to a new location since I was a kid, but it was (and still is) a family staple.  That was back when we’d go to Butcher Boy for meat, A & P for groceries, D & D for all that was Italian (and the milk man delivered).  I still shop there for their meatball mix, sausage and Parmesan cheese … especially the cheese.

Typically, Mom enjoys going and listening to the old Italians gossiping and the young ones flirting.  She says the store smells like ‘the good old days’.

Me – Let’s take a ride to D & D.

Mom – I can’t.  My hair looks like hell.

Me – You look fine.

Mom – They washed it this morning and I can’t find my curlers (she hasn’t set her hair in years … refer to previous blog, Musings…)

Me – We’ll just fluff it.

Mom (giving me the look) – You don’t look so good either.

Me – Gee, thanks.  Maybe because my neck is sore.

Mom – Oh goody!  We’ll be on the highway and you won’t be able to turn your head to see the traffic and we’ll crash and die.

Me – What?!  Where did you come up with that?

Mom – They won’t know who I am.

Me – Who?

Mom – Me.

Me – Huh?

Mom – At the hospital … I’ll be on lying on the table and no one will know who I am, my hair looks so bad. You know, like on television.  No one will claim me.

Me – Mom, you are going to D & D.

And this time, I give her the look…


About hereisakiss

Daughter Writer Art's Educator
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