The Ladies Page

| July/August 1961

  • Outfit and number of other ones

  • Outfit and number of other ones

Country Echoes


R.D.2, Brandon, Wisconsin

Waiting for spring is sometimes a depressing experience. As one woman to another let's hope your husband doesn't get at the Ladies' Page before April 1st. Just to cheer things up a bit this time of year why not try this on your special man? I will admit mine got even with me in quite a clever manner this last April 1st so perhaps you would like to challenge a come-back bout.

In April of '59, on the morning of the first day, I decided to bake some pancakes for breakfast. We do not have them often that early in the day. They seem a little heavy for a steady diet. What was my motive this particular morning? I wouldn't call it the very best, but nevertheless I got out my spoon, my frying pan, all the ingredients and went to work. Anyone watching me would have wondered what I was doing with a round piece of cloth, clean muslin, which was possibly four or five inches in diameter. I took on my sweetest morning look and made myself as busy as any good housewife should be. Here came the men for breakfast! Sizzle, sizzle, onto the griddle went the batter. For one particular pancake I took only half the amount of batter, spread it out carefully, as thin as I could, laid on the piece of muslin and smoothed the other batter over the top. Ah! it looked just like all the rest! It worked! My friend was right. She had pulled this one on her husband.

'Humph, we're getting real service this morning,' said my husband with one of those adoring smiles which still makes my heart flutter, as I waited on each one separately. A pang of conscience shot through me. He was so nice, and I was being so mean. After all a little fun now and then is good for a family, I reasoned. Our daughter had even encouraged the idea after I had baked her a similar one for her breakfast a short time before. As she had left for work, her departing remark had been, 'Pull that one on Daddy'. I didn't have to be told. The plans were already laid.

I can still see him giving his fork a workout over that pancake. He worked harder than a sawmill on a heavy log. He couldn't believe his eyes when he saw what made the going so rough. I saw to it that more were ready and I could disappear to the kitchen, trying hard to stifle my laughter at his chagrin. The children said 'Mom, I didn't think you had it in you,' as they let their laughter warm up the house with its sheer joy. They looked at me as though I were something from outer space. Serious-minded old Mom doing a thing like that was unbelievable. They just didn't know of the time I slipped quietly into the milk house when the milking was going on and shut off the running apparatus, hid behind the door until my poor husband had tried the light switches all with success, and scratched his head a while to have it come back on. He found me behind the milk house door. Nuf said! Nor do they know how I hid under my grandmother's bed while she was out of the room and when she returned the bed came into action from my hands and feet underneath. My poor grandmother almost had heart failure and I didn't sit so well for a while. I was about eleven, that time.


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