Terris at Six Years
Happy Birthday, Baby!
I was born December 5, 1948. I have decided it was a Sunday at three in the afternoon. My father said, “Oh, joy! A beautiful baby girl. She is just what I wanted.” My mother said, “Ump, my tummy hurts.”
I have many skills
I can bless holy water. I learned to do this a few years ago to protect myself from Dracula, the Mummy, and little men in my closet who just wouldn’t go away. This is how you do it: Get three jars. Wash out all of the mayonaise. Say three Hail Marys, three Apsotle's Creeds, and three Our Fathers. The water is now holy. Put them under your bed and sleep with a glow-in-the-dark crucifix under your pillow. If monsters are messing with you they will stop.
I look really good in a coonskin cap. Coonskin and taffeta are my best look.
I am partially telepathic. I can pick up thoughts from people, but not complete sentences that are grammatically correct. I am working on getting better at this.
I can see the air, even when it is clean and not foggy. I bet my vision is 20/100000000000.
Dixie Peach Hair Grease and Me
My best friend is Daisy Turner. She is light with green eyes and long pretty hair. I wish I had long hair. When M’Dear washes my hair, combs it out wet, greases it with Dixie Peach, braids it, lets it dry over night, and presses it with a sizzling hot iron—I wish I was bald.
I saw two dogs doing it, but I turned my head.