Wednesday, November 25, 2015

Minions

Minions


 I am the oldest of six children. When I was growing up, I didn’t think of them as life-long companions, beloved siblings, or members of the family club. I thought of them as minions.

You remember the movie which made minions a household word? Despicable Me is about an evil genius who employs a household of tiny beings to carry out his evil plans. That’s what I had – five willing souls waiting to do my every bidding.
           
Now I was not evil. I thought of myself more as a “benevolent dictator.” I gave the commands and they carried them out. I assigned places at the table, seats in the car, chores, and privileges. If it hadn’t been for my parents meddling, I would have been a very happy queen.
           
My parents somehow did not “get” my queenship and often removed my crown, so I sometimes resorted to subterfuge.
           
We had a very full house. My grandparents lived with us so with six kids and two parents our numbers rounded to ten. My mother’s weekly shopping trip was a real expedition. Fruit for ten was expensive, so Mom would buy each of us (in season) one banana, one apple or one orange. I loved oranges and always wanted more than one.
           
My scheming little brain devised a plan. I would send one of my minions down to innocently get her orange and then eat it myself! This minion was only three and not aware of the great injustice this would be. She cheerily skipped down to the kitchen and reached into the refrigerator for the orange.
           
From my perch on the stairs, I heard a voice. My blood froze. My mother was asking my minion what she was doing. My dear sister replied that she was just getting an orange for her dear sister. 

“Lisa!” my mother called. 

The jig was up!
           
My mother knew that I always ate my orange the very first day so this was double-dipping. I got a lecture on family sharing and my responsibility as a role model. 

In my best Scarlett O’Hara imitation, I silently swore to myself 

“With God as my witness, someday, I will eat an orange every day!”
           
The years have passed and my minions have forgiven, but not forgotten, my queenship. The orange incident faded into the past. I willingly relinquished my crown as we grew. I released my minions and gained siblings.

We are the best of friends because we shared the best of parents. They loved us so we love one another.

And every day, when I eat my orange, I remember those days, those siblings, those parents and that love.


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