Mother, May I ?

(I'd like to say that is not me, ignoring my mother, but I think I would be lying)

I went to our library's book sale this morning, and spent an hour checking each box on every table. Came home with about 10 books for $3.50, so a fruitful trip. I amused myself by noting how we each reacted to the subtle body language of our neighboring shopper and moved gracefully aside silently when it was time to swap places.

Tilting my bifocals to the right angle to read the titles of the books in boxes under the table, I saw "Umbrella Steps"  and heard the whirr of the way-back machine. I haven't thought of Mother, May I? in years and years.

We played this and Red Light, Green Light often and loudly.  The umbrella steps were always my favorite, though the boys favored giant steps. Crossing your feet and twirling with your arms over your head didn't get you much closer to "Mother", but it was fun.

We played this at home of course, but the clearest memories I have are in my maternal grandparents' front yard, in the long dusk of a summer evening. We would  cook hotdogs on a fire, drink Tru-Aid from tall colored metal cups, and run around and through the 20+ foot diameter lilac grove, playing hide and seek while the grownups may have gone inside to play High-low-jack.  Good times.