Can We Get Out?

I suppose retired people reminisce or jot down memories, I am more of the latter. So, I am remembering a recurring theme of our collective childhood. Dad was in control of where he worked...and when. He always said that a if a man wanted to work he could find work, and this gave him a certain amount of freedom and he was occasionally two checked as he called what ever job had terminated. He mustered out of WWII with a fairly extensive experience as a mechanic with leanings toward operating heavy duty equipment. Mom was in control of everything else; kids, food, washing, sewing, shopping, small household repairs. Together they made decisions on major purchases such as housing, cars etc. Discipline was mostly from Mom usually accompanied by much verbality, Dad tended to stick to precisely administered thumps to the top of the head.

At one point we drove a red and white station wagon, we went everywhere together on all occasions. Why you may ask? I think the habit of hiring a baby sitter became nearly impossible once we approached larger numbers, no babysitter wanted to be responsible for four or five children.

Large purchases: The folks would occasionally drive to Garden City to stroll through the various trailer houses on sale. Our hearts sank. The day was shot. We would invariably ask, “Can we get out?” “NO!”. We gazed at the outsides of a lot of brand new shiny trailer houses.

Appointments: Dad preferred the Veterans Hospital in Boise for his medical care. This was an all day procedure. The grounds at the Vets were extensive, large trees, squirrels, vast lawns, no swing sets. “Can we get out?” “NO.”

Gold mining: Dad had a gold pan and a small vial of Mercury that contained a few flakes of placer gold from various creeks in Idaho. We would go driving and every once in a while the notion to do some gold panning (if the fishing was poor) so we would stop. “Can we get out?” “NO.” For years we would sneak into the bedroom and get out the vial of Mercury and poured it out on the Chenille bedspread to chase it all over and then scoop it back up into the vial. We were careful not to actually touch it as we had been told that this was poisonous. Did we ask permission? NO.

Fishing: “Can we get out?” “NO.” Probably because the requirement for licensing had not been met. I do remember fishing a couple of times at Kids ponds that had been stocked with trout that liked hot dog as bait.

Taxes: I remember one time the folks taxes were being audited We all got into the car and drove to the Federal Building in Boise. We knew better than to even ask by then and it was a boring place for kids anyway. The Folks told us years later that one of the questions the auditor asked was “Can you prove the number of dependents you have listed on your return?” “Sure, they're all out in the car, want to see them?” “No.”

Picking up items: Dad always had to go pick up his check at the Idaho Power building in Boise. We packed into the car and waited in the parking lot. “Can we...” “No.”

Emergency Stops: One time the whole family was driving through eastern Nevada headed who remembers where. Mom was pregnant with someone and had a low blood sugar crash. She begged Dad to stop in the next town to visit a restaurant for something, a sandwich. “Can we get out?” “NO.” I think that was the last time we traveled without food in the car.

Stocking up for the drive: One of the components of many of our car related outings involving stopping at Albertsons for some maple bars and Vienna sausages, “Can we get out?” “NO.”.

Next stop was the nearest fast food for a gallon of root beer. “Can we get some mugs?” “NO.” To this day I am not extremely fond of those food items.

Eating out: Dad really liked Chinese food. He would take us all out to Louie’s Golden Dragon in downtown Boise. They always gave us a large booth and we were taught to be well behaved. “Can we have some bug juice? (soy sauce)?” “NO”. Dad liked to order sweet and sour spare ribs. These were very fatty pork ribs drenched in a very dark thick sauce. Delicious. I have never tasted anything similar to that sauce. “Can we have dessert? “No we will have dessert at home.” Learned after Dad died that Mom never did like Chinese food, so we never went back on visits home unless we went on our own.

Visiting neighbors and/or friends: Dad would often put us all in the car with the specific reason of going to visit friends who lived elsewhere. We would drive up to where ever they lived. “Can we get out? Do they have kids?” “No, wait until Dad sees if they are home.”. I learned many years later that; 1: Do not drop in unannounced. 2. Wait for an invitation.

Visiting grandparents: Both of our grandparents lived in the valley on their respective farms. I do not believe they ever socialized because farming is a very busy lifestyle and Dads parents were more social in that they attended card parties than Mom's parents who were more church oriented. The grandparents were knows as Big and Little. I doubt we were the first bunch of grandchildren who named them such. There some no's involved at each farmstead.

“Can I play in the chicken coop?” “NO.”

“Can I play in the storm cellar?” “NO.” It smelled of potatoes and dirt.

“Can we play on the haystack?” “NO.”

“Can we play in the corn crib?” “NO.”

“Can we play in the calves pen?” “NO.”

“Can you make me a gooseberry pie” “YES, go pick me some gooseberries and I will make a pie”. “Thank you, Little Grandma!”.