M is for Moore (and Mustard)

Two random stories Thursday! No deep meanings...just things on my mind.

Story One: When we were in our teens, Mama and Daddy took the three of us to Disney World in Florida for our family vacation. We drove all the way there in our new Astro van, listening to Ray Stevens' tapes the whole way. After our long day at the Great Mouse House, my parents took us for a late dinner at Denny's, which was right next to our hotel. Nothing like three strung out, exhausted children to add to everyone's dining pleasure. I ordered a cheese burger with mustard as usual. When our food arrived, I was looking at my first open face burger (thank you small town living!). I asked the waitress for some mustard, and she brought me a tall glass bottle similar to the ketchup. Having only ever used a knife and the short round container of mustard (this was pre-plastic-squeeze bottles with drip proof lids), I was confused. However, thank you for the directions, the lid said, "Shake before use." One or two good shakes later, we and some of the patrons around us were covered in bright yellow goodness. Seems someone before me had not put the lid back on the bottle after their use. Rather than be apologetic and embarrassed, our complete exhaustion from the day sent all five us into hysterical laughter. From then on, any time we went to a restaurant that used this particular mustard container, a member of my family would tell me, "Did you check that lid?"

Story Two: For anyone who knows me, you know I have been a "healthy" sized woman my whole life. One of the taunts from childhood was, "There's always MOORE of Jaimee." Thank you Last Name, First Name...Kids are so nice! Well after complaining to my sister Gayla about this one day, she started telling me various ways that she loved me more and what I have more of that others do not. To which I responded, "I love you more!" Enter the invention of cell phones and texting. Gayla and I were always chatting away with one another daily. When we were concluding our "conversations" sister always wrapped up with, "I love you." I would text, "I love you MOORE." She'd laugh. The night I found out I had lost my favorite friend, I grabbed my cell phone and started scrolling through our texts. I have never been more thankful that I never take the time to clear out my messages. I have texts all the way back to September 3, 2010. It's hard, but I am making my way through them and making notes in my journal of each day we had together since September. I am keeping a tally of the number of times we said "I love you!" They will never be enough to last me the rest of this life time without Gayla...I will always want MOORE.