Band Aids and BBQ

— Marcy Paintner

Band Aids and BBQ, the OB unit’s annual summer bash, was going to be bigger than ever. We reserved a pavilion at Phillippe Park, and planned for an unlimited number of family members to join in the celebration. Everyone was asked to bring a dish to pass around or non-alcoholic beverages.

This year my close friend, Carol, and I decided to invite our mothers. We’d discussed the similarities in our upbringings and thought it was time for our mothers to meet each other and our coworkers. We packed the the car with our mothers, potato salad, and baked beans. The phrase, “love at first sight,” best describes the Betty and Margaret connection. They were both in their early seventies. They talked, and talked, and TALKED! Carol and I were touched by their recollection of family stories, most of them about Carol and me. Carol and I protested that the stories did not happen the way they were told; but we laughed along with our mothers.

Their conversation turned to the songs of their younger days, and Margaret burst into song. Betty happily joined in on “Would You Like to Swing on a Star.” Carol and I looked at each other in disbelief, then joined the chorus. This was followed by “You are my Sunshine,” “Happy Days Are Here Again” and “Hit the Road Jack.” Our sing-along was cut short when a sharp turn slopped the baked beans onto the car floor. Margaret chortled, “That takes spilling the beans to a whole new level!”

The crowd was gathering when we arrived at the park. Margaret and Betty volunteered to help with the buffet setup. Our unit manager walked over to them and warmly said, “Please, sit down and be our guests. Let us treat you to a gathering where you feel special.” Their faces lit up with delight.

After over-eating at the all-you-can-eat buffet, it was time for the Corn Hole game. The boards were set up, and the foul lines were drawn by the kid with the sidewalk chalk. Betty grew up playing baseball with her four brothers and could pitch like a boy. After watching a few tosses fall short of the hole, Betty said it was her turn. There were a couple of snickers from the bystanders. Betty stepped up and pitched the first bean bag. It landed straight in the hole. The second, third and fourth beanbags followed the first into the hole. Jaws dropped. Granny was killin’ it! Then came the victory shout, “Four for four,” she crowed.

Margaret and Betty walked away. Carol and I didn’t pay attention to where they were headed as we were busy helping with the cleanup. They returned to the pavilion with confused looks on their faces. They needed to use the restroom, so they went to the restroom building. They told us that the restrooms were the strangest things they’d ever seen. There were sinks on the floor, and only one stall. I nearly wet my pants laughing. “Mom, you were in the men’s room!”

The afternoon continued to bring out the best in our moms. They laughed, talked, and entertained our group in the spirit of the proudest moms ever. An ironic thought came to me. They were told to enjoy the gathering and feel special. It was their congeniality and mom vibes that made everyone feel special.

The ride home was quieter. Margaret dozed off in the back seat, and Betty pulled a book out of her bag. Carol and I happily chatted and congratulated ourselves for bringing our mothers.

After 40 years of High-Risk Obstetric nursing, Marcy is pursuing her life-long interest in writing. Since joining OLLI-USF, she has connected with other writers though classes and SIGs. Her creative and humorous writing has been published in the online journal Long Story, Short. Marcy lives in Lutz/Land O’ Lakes with her miniature poodle, Cookie Bear.