THE TRIP

Jenny realized that they were far from home and that there were many people around. Last night she had slept on a quilt on the floor beside Mother. Everyone sat around a great big table to eat. Jenny wanted her high chair, but it wasn’t there. Her cousin, a tow head named Susan, sat in a high chair, but she was about twenty two months old and Jenny was about two years and three months old, so Susan was the high chair child. Uncle Wilmer put two catalogues on a chair for Jenny so that she could reach the table. Margaret kept saying, “Please pass the noodles.”

“Sure wish she’d eat like that at home,” Mother said.

Somebody said, “It’s the higher altitude and all that playing they did today.”

The family had taken a short trip to eastern Colorado to visit Daddy’s brother and family. Daddy had just gotten a new chevy the year before and he was very proud of it. Mother and Daddy took great satisfaction in noting that not one other car was able to pass them all the way to Colorado. Another brother followed in his slightly older car with his wife and two little daughters.

It was the first time in Jenny’s lifetime that they had been away from home for more than a few hours. Now home seemed far in the past, almost forgotten. At first,Jenny was confused at having the normal routine so changed, but as long as she could run frequently to Mother, the nucleus of her existence, she was able to adjust rapidly to even the most bewildering situations.

All the rooms were darkened, though it was broad daylight outside. This was due to the newspapers, which covered the windows. They served as protection against the dust, which swept unmercifully across the country, and sifted into every tiny crevice. They also kept out the hot summer sun and were less costly than blinds.

Jenny wandered into the dim bedroom where Aunt Faye was changing baby Ruthie's diaper on the bed atop a rubber sheet.

“Big kickie girl,” said Aunt Faye, as she lifted the baby by the ankles so that her chubby legs and buttocks were in the air, and whisked away the wet diaper. Ruthie chuckled gleefully and wiggled about contentedly on the bed.

“Big kickie girl, big kickie girl,” Aunt Faye cooed again, as she lifted the baby by the ankles once more to sprinkle on soft white talcum powder and slip a dry diaper under her. Jenny knew she had once been a baby herself. Sometimes she wished she still were.