Aunt Dot was our beloved, sometimes eccentric, aunt. Virtually everyone seem to have - or at least should have - an Aunt Dot. She was in her late teens when Dad was born. In fact; her oldest daughter Jolene is not much younger than Mom was. Age wise, her daughters Jolene, Charlene and Eilene (Dad always joked that if she and Uncle Mel had another they would have named her Gasolene) were closer to aunt age to me and their kids were more like first cousins would be.
That's all rather beside the point, though. Aunt Dot was COOL! I always remember Aunt Dot pulling up in front of our house in her awesome Mustang! We had a station wagon. Whoopee!! Aunt Dot had a Mustang! She also seemed to have a story for everything. Some of them may have even been true!
It was always entertaining when Aunt Dot was visiting. All except for the kiss she insisted on planting on me every time she arrived or left. She was a girl, of course, and she only had daughters so I am quite sure it never even occurred to her that no young boy should ever be forced to kiss any female of any species other than his dog! No; she seemed to have missed that memo. So...every visit with Aunt Dot started and ended with a kiss - right on the lips, no less!
One thing all of us understood from the time we were very young was that there were to be no feathers of any sort around Aunt Dot. You see Aunt Dot had a rather unusual fear of feathers; whether on or off the birds. We never learned why. I'm not really sure if anyone knew; but she would absolutely freak out if there was a feather floating through the air near her. I'm sure her girls were deprived of the opportunity of ever visiting the bird house at the zoo. I always secretly wondered what would happen if someone brought Aunt Dot some feathers. I not so secretly knew that Dad would kill me if I did it.
Little did I know that one day I would get to see her reaction; brought about by the innocence of my own son. Although you may never believe me; I swear I did nothing to promote it.
Now you must understand that Matthew had a special spot in Aunt Dot's heart. I called her the day he was born to share the news that we had another son and had named him Matthew Elmer. Elmer, being Dad's and Grandpa's name, was very special to Aunt Dot. I'm sure I could have told her we named him Susie Elmer and her reaction would have been the same. She seemingly never heard his first name. Instead; she shouted jubilantly, "You named him Elmer!!!!" She later referred to him as Matthew; but I'm sure she secretly always silently said Elmer in her heart every time she referred to him.
Our family spent a week on Mom and Ted's farm the summer when Matthew was three and one-half years old. Mom arranged a big family get-together. Of course Aunt Dot was there. Imagine for a moment a woman with a deathly fear of feathers sitting outside on a farm. A farm with free-roaming chickens, no less. There were fine tufts of feathers everywhere.
Aunt Dot had a plan, though! She offered to pay the children to collect up all of the feathers. Her idea, of course, was for the kids to collect the feathers and dispose of them well away from her; preferably well downwind! Matthew misunderstood her request. I swear I didn't confuse him!
Even as a small boy Matthew loved the chickens. He believed it was his "job" when at the farm to feed the chickens - every time he was outside. Those chickens were fed at least fifteen times a day when Matthew was there! He thought Aunt Dot wanted to enjoy the chickens, too.
He worked diligently to collect as many feathers as he could find. He was a feather collecting champion! The misunderstanding came about because Matthew thought Aunt Dot wanted to see and count the feathers he was collecting so she could appreciate his hard work. So Matthew did what any three and one-half year old would do - he brought his massive collection of feathers directly to Aunt Dot's lawn chair.
He was so proud!
Several people realized - too late - that Matthew was approaching Aunt Dot with a massive bag full of chicken feathers. There was nothing they could do. Matthew walked right up to Aunt Dot's chair and proudly presented his bag of feathers. Feathers; being feathers, don't stay nicely in the bag, of course, so small feathers floated gently out of the bag; caught in the gentle breeze to blow freely around Aunt Dot's airspace.
He was so proud!
We all thought for a moment that we were going to have to call the paramedics for Aunt Dot. She flew out of her chair faster than a woman her age should have been able to move. I'm sure her screech was heard for miles.
Poor Matthew didn't understand what the problem was. She had, after all, asked him to collect feathers and even offered to pay him for his efforts. He was just offering her the opportunity to verify his work.
Aunt Dot didn't see it that way. I'm sure she thought someone had tricked him into nearly ending her life prematurely.
Somehow, I think Dad would have found it ever so slightly entertaining.
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