Black Jelly Beans

Photo:  pinksuedeshoe.com

Black jelly beans...YUM!!!  Growing up I would always pick out the black jelly beans first.  I love them!  Always have, always will.

A few days ago my husband picked up a bag of black jelly beans.  Needless to say, they did not make it long with my husband and I.  Cindy, my kept daughter, preferred her Warhead Jelly Beans.  Oh well, she doesn't know what she is missing out on.

With each black jelly bean I ate, I wasn't reminded of my childhood picking out all of the black jelly beans and devouring them first.  No.  I was reminded of something completely different...a time when everything was suppose to be forgotten and not talked about.

It was the Spring of 1988, right before Easter.  This was the only time black jelly beans could be found.  I craved them this time, I had to have them, I guess it was because I was pregnant with Ashley.  Every Sunday at Church my youth group was in charge of running the video camera to record the service for the "shut-ins" and run the audio.  My youth group was small and even though this little job only required 2 people all six of us would sit up in the AV loft.  There we had freedom.

I was craving these things something fierce.  We somehow managed to talk a few kids in my sister's youth group to cover for us so we could go in search of the wonderful little black treasures.  

The first stop was to Doughtry's Pharmacy, they had every kind of wonderful Easter treat imaginable...except for my black jelly beans.  After my friends purchased their treats we rushed off to a Tom Thumb Grocery store close by.  There we found a bag of the delightful little black jelly beans I craved.  I was happy, enjoying each and every little black bean...it was my moment of heaven.

To this day I still love those little black jelly beans and black licorice too.  Every time I pop one in my mouth I always remember that little quest for the black jelly beans.  And when I think back to that day I wonder....

Does Ashley like Black Jelly Beans too?

Another Random Memory

The week before my First Daughter was born my Mother went to Hawaii with her boyfriend for the week.  My Grandmother had to stay with us because my Mother was afraid we would throw a party or something.  Did she not realize that I was no condition to throw a party?  Anyway, Gran'ma was with us for the week.

There was a knock on the door, I waddled over to answer it.  At first I didn't recognize the person standing there, it was my Birthfather.  It was about 4 months since my sister and I last saw him and he had lost a lot of weight.  I let him him, my Gran'ma was on the couch (her leg was in a cast from breaking it the month before) and she was surprised.  Gran'ma was practically drooling!  Telling my Birthfather that he looked hot, then she started telling my sister and I about how good-looking she thought our Birthfather was before he married his second wife.  My sister and I were completely grossed out!!  Ewwww....Gran'ma had the hots for my Birthfather.

I knew why Birthfather was there, the weight loss, the new car and the urge to go shopping told me everything I need to know.  He and my Stepmom had separated for the hundredth time, it was the same story...they split up, BF loses the weight he gained from eating Stepmom's food, buys a new sports car, and he tries to make up for lost time by taking my sister and I shopping.  Well, we might as well enjoy it while we can because we both know they will be back together again soon.

BF noticed I had worn out my Keds.  I loved my Keds and now I could wear them without socks because I had ankles!!  We walked through mall to a shoe store and there my BF bought me 3 new pairs of Keds...white, black and navy.  My swollen feet were happy.  As we went shopping I had to endure my BF's bad pregnancy jokes...I'd be a tennis ball if I was wearing yellow and didn't shave my legs, I'd be a bowling ball if I was wearing black, etc.  I knew him well enough to know these bad jokes were keeping BF from breaking down in tears, I don't know if the tears would be from me being pregnant, his separation, or the fact that he had been a crappy Father to us since he married my stepmom 10 years ago.  While we were listening and half-hearted laughing at his bad jokes my sister and I were also grossing out over the girls my age checking out my BF...Ewwww!!!!

I was dying for a Banana Split, so after shopping he took my sister and I over to Braum's.  Thankfully, it was quiet in there and the jokes stopped and there were no girls in there checking out BF.  I inhaled my Banana Split while BF would tell my little sister stories about when we were little and he would bring us here.  Afterwards BF dropped us off at the little apartment we were now living in.  We were glad to be back home.  Unfortunately, we had to listen to Gran'ma carry on all evening about how hot she thought BF was and how it must be the Choctaw in him that made him so good looking.  My Sister and I made gagging faces for the rest of the night while our cousin would laugh telling Gran'ma she was a sick woman for thinking that way about her ex-son-in-law.

Random Memory

Never fails...every July I seem to remember some little detail that doesn't cross my mind the rest of the year. 

Friday, July 22, 1988.  My boss "Ava" said I was looking tired and she wanted me to start coming in at noon tomorrow.  I was tired.  Before I was pregnant I stood a whole whopping 5'1" and 93 lbs dripping wet.  Here I was looking like I was carrying twins because my body was so small the baby had nowhere to go but out and my legs were tired and swollen.  "Ava" handed me a huge bag of Kolaches her mother had sent home with her when she went to visit them.  These Kolaches weren't the little sausages wrapped in dough, oh no, these were were the real things...sweet, delicious, fruit topped pastries made by a Czech woman.  These things were pure heaven!!

I got home and changed clothes.  My boyfriend canceled our date (which seems to be happening more and more lately) and he promised we would go out the next night.  My younger sister left that morning for a mission trip in Biloxi, Mississippi.  My cousin who was a year younger than me and living with us was at work.  My Mom was off somewhere, who knows where.  We left my Adoptive Father the summer before and moved into these apartments.  The apartments were decent, I felt somewhat safe there.  There was a boy named "Johnny" who lived in our apartments, he was a little younger than me and he ran around with my sister, he loved to give her grief...maybe that was why I thought of him as my little brother :-)

"Johnny" came by, he didn't know what to do since he didn't have my sister around to bug.  I took my Kolaches and my nail polish caboodle (remember Caboodles?) and went outside with him.  He was watching me struggle trying to get the old nail polish off my toes while he was eating the Kolaches.  I had trouble reaching my toes with my huge belly in the way.  He giggled and said he would do it for me, he had older sisters so he knew how to paint toes.  I let him since I was too hot, tired, and uncomfortable to do it.

I don't remember much of our conversation that evening.  I do remember saying I couldn't wait to see my toes again.  I feel a little bad about saying that, I didn't want my time with my baby to be over with, I just wanted to see my toes again...my Estee Lauder Hibiscus Pink toes.

17 days until her 23rd birthday...