My catfight-over-a-boy Rite of passage fight with Andrea, combined with the encouragement from Mary Ellen's mom, must have triggered some sort of hormone release in me, as I was now completely in touch, or tapped into, with the women's intuition I had heard so much about. I decided to listen to the hunch it gave me to check under my Mom's bed, which was normally forbidden--it was typically reserved for Christmas presents, and ruining Christmas was taboo in our household.
(Now that I think of it, maybe I was now more open to breaking taboos. Andrea and I yesterday have tried to break several.)
I immediately noticed 2 pairs of boxing gloves. Why did my Mom need boxing gloves? And why 2 pairs?
The question simultaneously had no obvious answer....and yet answered itself.
If that makes any sense.
I was tempted to call her and ask.
Or to ask Mary Ellen.
But instead....
I called Mary Ellen's mom. I remembered my Mom had her listed as an emergency contact on my school profile (a paper copy, not electronic....this was 1975, remember?).
I called her at her 'Office' number. I was so nervous.
> Hello.
> Hi...it's ....umm....Monique.
> Are you and Andrea fighting again? Did she send that bitch cousin of hers over?
> No....ummmm....it's ok.... but.... when you fight.... do you ever use boxing gloves?
> Honey....I think you and Andrea are the definition of 'gloves off'. Right??
> Right .... ummm.... I don't mean Andrea and me. I mean my Mom.
> Well, well. This just got interesting.
To be continued....
