I'm the only woman of the baby boom
generation who makes her bed. The next job I can remember was given
to me also by my mother after she broke her leg skiing in New Jersey.
It was her first or second time making my father happy by skiing on
the little New Jersey hill with snow making. Full of fear and
tension over sliding down a hill, Mom broke her leg in two places.
I was subsequently hired at age twelve
to cook and clean. Maybe my only job was to take care of the kitchen
because I remember the hell of oven scrubbing and making lamb chops
inedible with garlic. I was happy about receiving a ten dollar bill
and also happy when I could return to being a carefree penniless
twelve-year-old. That may have been the same year I forced my family
to celebrate Hanukkah instead of Christmas. That was the year we
didn't have to get rid of the tree before grandma came over for a
visit. Even though my parents grew up celebrating Christmas, having
an actual Christmas tree in our actual house decorating the picture
window with it's lights would have been upsetting to all four
grandparents or at least the grandmothers.
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