Mom liked to keep an oral history of ourselves a part of her regular routines. She would tell choice stories of herself as though it were new information and she would remember a current event about my sister or I if it had the right sense of artfulness to it. The stories could be funny or about an abuse by an authoritarian buffoon. They were always stories where there were some sort of triumph by one of us, even if it were only how obviously wrong the nemeses were shown.
Two of Mom's favorites were about my sister, Viola. One was how she would mangle words when she was much younger and she had glasses put on her face when she was just three or four. She would say "I've got my Gacters." Mom thought this was very cute.
The other story was about a time when a woman approached Viola when she was still very young at Christmas and sweetly asked "And what would you like Santa to bring you this year?"
Viola puffed up her chest and blurted "I hate santa!!!" The poor woman was reportedly discombobulated by the shock.
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