Greasy Handprints

When I was a little girl, I wanted to be a princess.

I thought it was an occupation I could maintain with my daddy's 

greasy hand prints on my sides and hair so unruly, it couldn't be combed, just 

tousled by the uncles, 

my grandfather telling me 

 "get out of the garage, you belong in the kitchen" 

and it broke my heart because I never wanted to be a boy,

I just wanted to be with he and my father. 

In my family, the women cook, the men are served first. 

We would eat fast to clear the table when they were finished and 

I still believe in that value. 

My grandfather and father taught me what was a good man. 

My grandmother taught me how to take care of one and 

my mother made sure I understood that I didn't have to. 

My other grandfather, at bedtime, 

he would say to me 

 "see ya in the funny papers" and I always thought he meant obituaries. 

Nothing really funny about when some middle-aged housewife 

dies from all of her favorite habits, 

catching up to her at once and they bury her 

in her favorite pair of my pinstripe pants, 

hair bottle bleach blonde and fading tattoos and raspy laugh, all

smiling from a long time ago in a grainy, cartoon- like photo. 

Ya know.. 

The funny papers only.. 

not really funny. 

I would try my hardest to smooth the rat's nest curls just in case 

I needed a good picture in the morning and now every time I fall asleep, 

I think about the funny papers and try to laugh and 

if Grandpa were still alive, he probably wouldn't love me like

he used to and I just wanted to be a princess 

with my daddy's greasy hand prints 

keeping me from falling apart.

Reviews

[wordman]

a heart felt write,and you are a princess