Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Not The Way She Baked Biscuits

Suzy over at Hollywood Where Hot Come To Die, has written about her encounters with the other side.  She calls them HIS DEAD WIFE.  Well I shared this story with her some time ago and thought hum, why not share it with you.  So for your entertainment

That is Not the Way His Dead Wife Baked Biscuits

I am like that poor little boy in the movie The Sixth Sense only I don’t hang out with Bruce Willis.  You see all my life I have seen ghost and I passed this down to my own child.  Evidently I inherited this from my mother who inherited it from her grandmother.  I didn’t know my mother had this gift until I was grown and one night when we were sitting in front of the Flaming Seven machine at the casino and she told me she had always been inflicted.

It was the morning after my mother had passed away.  My sister, my brother, my father and I were in the kitchen.  My sister had just put the biscuits in the oven and I was frying the bacon and eggs.  Now my mother had a special way she cooked biscuits.  My mother was also somewhat of a tyrannical obsessive compulsive person who insisted you do things her way.  The truth was she believed that her way was the right way.  Let me be more specific she believed her way was the only way.   Let’s get back to my sister who did not put the biscuits on a paper towel, the way that my mother would have, she put them directly onto the cookie sheet then put it in the oven.  She closed the oven door then turned to pour herself a cup of coffee. 

The next thing I saw was my sister rubbing the back of her head snapping at me “that wasn’t funny.”  I looked on the floor and there was the sheet pan and all the biscuits on the floor.  I looked at my dad and my brother who were slack jawed and glassy eyed.  My dad, who had lived with my mother the tyrannical obsessive compulsive always right person for over 55 years was white as a ghost.  He looked at me then he looked at my sister and said “well I guess next time you’ll do it your mother’s way.”  My brother said nothing just continued to stare at the biscuits and said “don’t piss her off again, she’s liable to throw more than biscuits next time.”  My sister looked at the floor and said “which of you did that?”  My dad smiled and said “your mother did of course.”

1 comment:

rxBambi said...

WOW! I love hearing stories like this. Do you read Willow? She lives in a haunted house. I've had at least one encounter if youre interested. It was written last year on Halloween if you want to find it (or if you want to find it but can't let me know and I'll find it for you)


Oh, and listen to your mother!!