The Underpants

by Skye Moody

Liv Fun: Vol 2 – Issue 4

I’m turning six, soon graduating from kindergarten. There’s this boy from my kindergarten class who has a crush on me. We often nap side-by-side on our woven-rag floor mats. During playtime, Johnny insists that we play “house,” that he be my husband. He won’t allow any other kids to enter the playhouse in the corner of the classroom. Just Johnny and me … and baby doll makes three.

At first when we set up housekeeping, Johnny Hardman tries bossing me around, for about two minutes before discovering that I’m untamable. At my real home, they call me “Little Mayhem,” and other apt names. But Johnny lives two blocks from me, and except for school, his mother doesn’t allow him to come on our block. So on Day One of kindergarten, he’s had no explicit warning about my innate mutineer when he judges me for my looks alone. How could he not read the stubborn conviction in my flashing green eyes when he orders me to do the dishes?

Furthermore, I am a five-year-old shiksa, and a Catholic. Who can fault Mrs. Hardman for kvetching at her son to avoid me, for steering his innocent blue eyes toward a pretty, four- or five-year-old Jewish girl? We live in this exclusive neighborhood of mostly Catholics and Jews. In those days, anyone who wished to purchase a home on Magnolia Bluff had to sign an agreement explicitly promising to not resell their property to “persons of color.” Neither Johnny nor I knew of this adult covenant, and I only discovered it after my parents were deceased. I don’t know if Johnny ever knew about that aspect of our neighborhood.  As for the adults, I don’t pass judgment on the whole adult population of Magnolia Bluff. Back in those times many real estate companies controlled their territories with their personal redlining tactics. Most adults probably didn’t even read the entire sales agreements; the “persons of color” clause appeared in small print amidst such tedious clauses as sewer line inspections, noise ordinances and lawn maintenance. That said, abundant though they were on Magnolia Bluff, I don’t recall any Jewish girls in our kindergarten class.

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Liv Fun

by Leisure Care
Winter 2013
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The Underpants
by Skye Moody

I’m turning six, soon graduating from kindergarten. There’s this boy from my kindergarten class who has a crush on me. Johnny Hardman tries bossing me around, for about two minutes before discovering that I’m untamable.
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The Lasting Gift
by Elana Zaiman

What’s the best gift you ever received? Was it the steering wheel attached to a slab of wood your grandfather built for you when you were 4? Or was it the pearl necklace your great aunt draped around your neck at 16? Was it the weekend in Paris your wife surprised you with when you retired? Or was it the birthday party your family threw in honor of your 80th?
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Third Wind
by Tammy Ruggles

I was born with Retinitis Pigmentosa (RP), an eye disease that has been ever so slowly robbing me of my vision as the rods and cones in my eyes gradually die off. I got my first pair of glasses at the age of two, so I grew up knowing my vision was below average. Sometimes I felt self-conscious and embarrassed, like when I had to sit next to the teacher’s desk so I could see the blackboard.

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