How long does it take most people – no, make that most girls –
How long does it take the distaff side to realize dad was never as bright as one had been led to believe? [Don’t know about guys. Sons, fathers et al remain spooky alien territory. I can barely figure brother most days]
Even my mother was long entrapped in some canescent illusion
that the center of her life was graced with more wit and brains
than she was. Naturally [as in: without question] when in fact, she was easily the sharper, the funnier of the pair.
I can see her of a Saturday morning holding a box of cornflakes
and reading outloud great with strawberries and cream and turning to me
with her forget-me-not eyes and saying Timmy, horse manure would be great with strawberries and cream.
[see also: Nola]