Superman, Accidents and Black Coffee

I don't remember everything about my childhood.  I do however remember waiting for Saturday morning cartoons. I had a wild imagination. I would like to pretend to be characters on TV. Sometimes, I'd be the Lone Ranger, other times a superhero. My favorite was always Superman. My mother though that I was going to jump out of the third story window so she was leary when I would wrap a towel around my neck and start running with my hands outstretched .

There was another time that I took and popped out the lenses from a pair of my father's glasses. I was Clark Kent. My mother would often play along and ask "Clark, What do you want for breakfast, Cheerios?" For those that don't know, all Puerto Rican mothers call any brand of cereal "Cheerios". Its like everyone calling a bandage, a "Band-aid". I responded once that I want pancakes and black coffee . She would ask "Why black coffee?",  and I would say, "Because that's the way Clark likes it!". We didn't have Teflon in those days so if you had a stainless steel pan that wasn't conditioned, sometimes the pancakes would stick . My mother would always use butter or margarine from one of those tubs that you can later use as a cup. The pancakes wouldn't stick with all that butter but they would always have the brown edges . I don't believe she ever told my father what happened to his eye glasses.

When I was about four for some reason my mother left my older sister by eight years babysit me while she went out. My mother was a smart lady, but I can't figure out why she would leave me with a 12 year old. If my sister wasn't listening to her Beatles records she would torment me like older sisters were supposed to. I would in turn tattle tale every chance I got. I guess we are even. Except the time she dressed me up like David Casidy from the Partridge Family.

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I have three older sisters but was raised with one. The two older two sisters were married and gone before I was born. My mom left one morning to visit my father in the hospital. He was recovering from tuberculosis and my mother was taking him his cigarettes. It was the 60s, you could smoke in hospitals. Again, she was a smart lady,  but she reasoned that if most of the doctors smoked, it can't be too bad. My sister was playing her records on one of those portable record players where the LPs (Long playing records for you young folks ) would edge beyond the player. She was supposed to be washing clothes.

We lived humbly in a third floor apartment in Fairmount. We had one of those washing machines that didn't have a spin cycle. The water would simply drain and you had to wring out your clothes through the wringer that was a set of rolling pins that press the clothes like a pasta machine flattens dough. Of course I was curious.

I wanted to wring out my socks. I was all alone, just me and my sock. I lifted my arm and while on my tiptoes and  proceeded to wring them out. Everything went well, except for the part when I was supposed to let go. The rolling pins pulled me up off my feet. I thought i was going to be flattened like Wile E. Coyote, under an anvil. I got stuck and I was suspended in mid air. I must have screamed.

All I remember was my mother appeared and was screaming but instead of taking me off of the machine she proceeded to beat up my sister for leaving me unattended. One hand flailing at my sister and the other reaching for the emergency release lever on the machine. My father's boss at the time came to take me to the hospital and I came out with just some bruised ligaments and slightly still malformed left forearm. It reminds me of Popeye arms.

 I remember one summer I woke up before everyone else to watch the Lone Ranger, Road Runner, Johnny Quest and the Superfriends in only underwear. I had always wished that underoos were invented when I was younger as I would have surely wore them. My sister told me the night before not to touch her Applejack's. Of course I had run out of my Fruit Loops, so naturally reached for her Applejacks. Who would know?  I poured the "cheerios" and then the milk. There must have been something slippery on the floor, the next thing I knew I was doing a Charlie Brown flip and my sister was Lucy.

I must have been suspended in mid air with all limbs off the floor to what seemed like an eternity. I fell flat on my back and got the wind knocked out of me. The Applejacks and milk went into the air as well and landed on my almost naked body. I ran to my mom's room with Applejacks sticking to my chest. I couldn't speak . I remember trying to tell my mom what happened, but could only gasp for air.  My mother figured that my sister had something to do with it, so she goes to her room and beats her. I told you she was a smart Lady.