Cracking Up (Nick Lowe, 1979)
Any similarities to actual events and persons in my family are not coincidental. This story took place in May of 2007.
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“If God had to give a woman wrinkles, he might at least have put them on the soles of her feet.” ~ Ninon de Lencios, French Courtesan (1620 -1705)It was late in the afternoon on a sunny spring day. Jessie, my 3-year-old daughter, and I played in a park next to where her big sister Lauren had soccer practice. Afterward, the three of us jumped in a loaner car and headed to the dealership where our car was ready for pickup.
About fifteen minutes into the half-hour drive, Jessie began crying. “Daddy, we need to go home! I’m cracking! I’m cracking!”Cracking?
"What do you mean you're cracking?” I said.
“The mulch is making my feet crack,” cried Jessie. “The mulch! I’m cracking! We need to go home!”
The mulch Jessie referred to was the ground cover at the park. Driving and unable to investigate, I called on my second in command, my 8-year-old. “Lauren, see what she's crying about.”
With each passing second, Jessie became more distressed. “I’m cracking! I’m cracking! I'm cracking!” Tears flowed down her cheeks.
Lauren quickly examined Jessie’s foot. “Jessie, those lines are just wrinkles. We all have wrinkles.” She held up her own hands. "See?"
Jessie put her bawling on hold and quickly scanned Lauren's hands. A mere breath or two later, her teary eyes wide, she screamed, “You’re cracking too!”
The wailing continued. Jessie was officially unglued.
I assured her that the cracks on her hands and feet were normal, and that they were just lines called wrinkles. I stuck my right hand back between the seats and demanded she look at it. Still crying, Jessie inspected the lines on my hand, and then Lauren’s again, and back to her own hands and feet.
Jessie instantly stopped crying. She sniffled, smiled, and calmly said, “Oh."
Jessie was again glued, and we all cracked up laughing.
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