Heartwarmer: SECRET WEAPON

[winkiebear]

This is taken from the "Heartwarmers" Mailing list.  It was today's story, and I knew EXACTLY what the author was talking about, so I figured you guys would too!



Happy Wednesday,

 winkie



SECRET WEAPON



     In 1965, when my family moved to a picturesque neighborhood in

Fayetteville, Pennsylvania, we were stunned to find a petition had been

circulating to bar us from settling there.

     The neighbors, upon learning that a fairly large family -- seven kids

to be exact -- was elbowing its way into their territory, feared the worst.

Perhaps they envisioned seven times the mischief, churning up flowerbeds,

battering mailboxes, sleepy lives unraveled by gleeful shrieks of children

peppering cars with rocks and tripping up the elderly.

     The petition was denied.

     And so we moved into the colonial-style house, my parent's first home

after 15 years of transitioning from one Army housing complex to another.

What a luxury it was then, owning a brick structure with two stories that

we did not have to share with other families.  The backyard, stretching on

for what seemed like miles, tugged at my exploring spirit.

     As one month flowed into the next, the neighbors held their breath.

Finally, there was a collective sigh of relief as they began to see that

their world would remain intact after all.

     Then they began to wonder why.  Why was such a large family so quiet?

Even during Dad's tour in Vietnam, not a single hiccup.

     What the neighbors didn't bank on was Mom's secret weapon -- a weapon

that would have brought Ghengis Khan to his knees.  Flattened evil empires.

Rewrote history.

     Her secret weapon, for lack of a more technical term, was "the look".

     I believe there was a patent-pending on it at the time.

     This is how it worked.

     First, the eyebrows arched.  Then the lips tightened into one thin,

rigid line.  The eyes, narrowed and unflinching, turned to glass.

     Whenever I was caught in mid-mischief, there she was, armed with that

baleful stare.  I was a fish about to be slapped onto butcher paper if I

dared twitch.  None of my brothers and sisters had the nerve to challenge

"the look", so I could only imagine the consequences of crossing that line.

I was certain that it meant being hauled away to a place for bad kids,

where a cackling witch pinched their fingers to see if they were plump

enough to be on the menu.  You can be assured that I never once attempted

to find out what would happen.

     There were even times Mom had the eerie ability to foresee mischief

barely hatching in my brain.  One look in my direction whittled my plans,

along with my constitution, to sawdust.  Like the Nat King Cole song, my

only alternative was to straighten up and fly right -- for the time being.

     As it always is with Army life, after three years and one more sibling

added to the family, we followed Dad to his new assignment, where we were

once again placed in generic housing on post.  To this day, my parents

cherish the friendships they collected while living on that tree-lined

street in Fayetteville.  I've never forgotten the sweet man next door who

always seemed to have a pocketful of butterscotch candy for us when he

mowed his lawn.

     A few years ago, my three-year-old niece was acting bratty at the

dinner table, which solicited a five-star glare from her grandmother.  Our

forks poised in mid-air, we waited awkwardly for the little girl's

reaction.  Then...

     "Grandma!" she said, giggling.  "You're funny!"

     We gasped.

     She had breached the rules and... and she was still living!

     Even more shocking though was what I detected on my mother's face.  A

trace of defeat.  Just enough to make me appreciate how precious that tool

must have been to her all these years, the pride she must have felt to be

able to discipline a caravan of kids in church, in the store, the park,

libraries, and museums -- all with just one look.  Especially in one

particular neighborhood that dreaded our arrival.

     It's been said that Mom was the only one in her family who

successfully adopted her mother's glare to control the kids.  It must be

genetic.  The other day my two-year-old was whizzing around at top speed on

the sit-n-spin during naptime when I opened the door quietly and zeroed in

on him with that look.  He braked with his heels, hopped off, and quickly

crawled into bed.

     Hmmm.  Maybe it's not too late for that patent after all.



            -- Jennifer Oliver    

[elleny]

bwaaaaahahahahahaha ROFLMAO!!!  I know that look.  I saw it every 30 minutes or so from my mom or grandmother growing up.  If it wasn't me, then it was my brother.  I worked very well on my.  I've only been spanked twice because that look scared the living begeezus out of me.  I hope that one day I'll be able to give that look myself.  That's what we need in this world, more of the "Look".  I bet crime would go down 50%.



Ellen (hatching a plot to save the world) in TX

[djpcps]

Oh yes - The Look! My grandmother had the best one I ever saw.  As kids, my 3 brothers and I got lucky though - my mom didn't inherit it.  



However, just about the time Nanny's Look was losing it's strength, my husband informed me that it seemed I was the heir apparent.    



Anyone remember the episode of Home Improvement that dealt with The Look?  Hubby loves that show and we've seen that episode several times and it still cracks us up every time.

 

[elleny]

That is my husband's favorite episode.  The first time he saw it he turned to me and shouted, "YOU GIVE ME THAT LOOK.  I THOUGHT I WAS THE ONLY ONE!!!!"



My reply "Yes, I give the look.  My Grandmother gave it to my mom, and she gave it to me.  Of course I will give it to our daughter."



To that he said with the most serious face I've ever seen, "We're not having kids."



Ellen (hmmmmm, I wonder if the look will work on a hydra) in TX

[djpcps]

Apparently my son inherited the male version of the Look - hehad the "Eat s**t and die" look down pat by the timehe was a year old.  I have a photo of him at age 3 giving thelook - I call it proof he was BORN with an attitude.