Aunt Teddy

I'd heard many "Aunt Teddy" stories before actually meeting my husband's aunt. I guessed most of them had been exaggerated for comic effect. But, that was before I'd met her. Now I think the stories had been toned down.

Aunt Teddy is the physical personification of Mrs. Claus. In fact, people reading this who know her will wonder if the photo above is actually her, wearing a wig of longer hair. No, it is not her, but it could be. She's that sweet. She's that Mrs. Claus-like.

Along with being sweet, she's also easily flustered. She reacts unpredictably when caught off guard. Like the time her minister's wife asked her for a cookie recipe and Aunt Teddy began with, "Well, I know you need four f***s of flour---". As soon as the words were out, she turned scarlet in disbelief that "four cups of flour" could have come out so very wrong.

Another time, I was talking with her daughter, my dear, dear friend, in the front yard. Aunt Teddy was there as well. My friend and I were discussing how quickly our sons were growing and that they'd outgrown their clothes faster than we'd thought possible.

"I went through Thomas' dresser," I said, "And realized that he has no jeans."

"None at all?" asked Aunt Teddy, just tuning in.

"No, none...no jeans," I said emphatically. "Crazy, isn't it"

Aunt Teddy was getting her baffled look. "But, I really don't see how it's possible."

"Well, it is. He doesn't have any jeans right now."

She looked more confused. "None? Surely he has some. He has to have some from either you or Peter!" She paused. "I don't think it's scientifically possible otherwise."

That was my clue that Aunt Teddy had thought I was talking about "genes".

Not too long ago, Aunt Teddy moved to a condo in a retirement community where a number of her friends already lived. Once a week, a group of women would gather in the dining room to have a meeting. Their table was near a large gas fireplace that made the environment especially cozy. The maintenance man would kindly turn on the fire before their meeting and turn it off afterwards. One week, Aunt Teddy smiled as he turned the switch.

"Oh, thank you for lighting my fire!" At the outburst of giggling at this statement, Aunt Teddy suddenly rose to her feet to object, only to have her slip fall down around her ankles.

There is something very satisfying and comforting in knowing Aunt Teddy. I think most families somehow need an Aunt Teddy of their own. Every week, she has a new adventure of sorts. And, she's given me an arsenal of stories just waiting to be told.