Dialogue over breakfast. Nephew is fussy, if by "fussy" you mean "in the throes of colic hell."
Mom: You know, I always judged your great-grandmother for giving your grandfather paregoric as a child, but now I am more sympathetic. She had four children under five, and your grandfather was so active.
Justin: What's paregoric?
Mom: Oh, tincture of opium. This was before the Harrison Act. You could buy those things without a prescription in those days.
Sister: But it was addictive, right?
Mom: Yes, but we don't really have addictive personalities in this family. Your great-grandparents had a bottle about this big [holds up hands approximately a foot apart] of brandy before Prohibition started, and they had about this much left in it [indicates 2 inches] at the end of Prohibition. [Note: Prohibition was 14 years long. Then, thoughtfully:] But then, there was my great-uncle Sam. He died in an opium den.
[imagine "screeching halt" sound effect.]
Us: Wait, what?
Mom: Yes.
Me: Was he using the opium? Or did he just, you know, fall down the stairs?
Mom: Well, I suppose we don't really know.
Sister: He just went in and didn't come back out?
Mom: He came back out, all right. But it was feet-first.
Me: Was this opium den ... American?
Mom: Oh, yes. In Cleveland.
Three footnotes is about standard for breakfast at my house.
The Harrison Act is just another case of the socialist fascists running amok and trying to implement a nanny state.
ReplyDeleteI seriously just need to come down and hang out with Aunt Barbara. I always learn so much. I'm usually utterly confused in the process, but I come out so much more educated. The great thing is to watch her and my dad engage in what only they could describe as conversation. Only the two of them could possibly know what's happening. But it's great fun for an innocent bystander. Thank you for this Nana!
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