Yep, there's mom dressed in her lovely pink chiffon evening gown, Baby Bubba in his WHITE romper and Buster Browns and me...well, let's just say I can never, ever, ever remember having enough hair to hold up that humongous bow. This was certainly not our typical 'Bedtime Story' scene.
If the truth be known, I can't recall mother reading to us...at bedtime or any other time for that matter. She just didn't have time between working, cooking for a family of seven...sometimes eight or nine depending on what relative she took in...and she made most of our clothes. By the end of the day...well again, let's just say...it wasn't the idyllic 'Bedtime Story' scene.
But here's the thing...Mother LOVED to READ!
Between work, cooking, cleaning, sewing and gathering eggs...we had chickens, she would make time to read. That was when she would herd us outside, latch the screen door and say, "You three Yahoos go play." For years I thought of myself and my siblings as 'Yahoos', and that our mother used it as a term of endearment.
Not so long ago, I was telling my sister about mother calling us a 'Bunch of Yahoos'. Her response was, "That's terrible, I can't believe she would call us that. You do know what Yahoos are, right? "
caption: I saw coming towards the house
a kind of vehicle drawn like a sledge by four yahoos.
cliff notes characterization: they are human in form and feature...and they stink.