I don’t want realism. I want magic! Tennessee Williams
The other day I remembered something that Daddy used to do that awed and amazed every child who ever witnessed a performance of "The Disappearing Dime".
Daddy would sit with his left arm on the table, and his left hand next to his head. He would take a dime, and with much fanfare, press it against his inner forearm, twisting it, grunting a little, and so on. It would drop a few times, and he'd pick it up and try again. Eventually, with a great flourish, the dime would appear in his ear! No single performance was ever enough for any kid. Daddy would do it over and over again, letting us all try it for ourselves. The more we failed to be able to push a dime through our arms and into our ears, the more awed we were. I enjoyed the magic even more as an adult when I watched Daddy mystify my nephew with the trick.
I was reminded of this the other day. My older sister and I had been having breakfast with my parents, and Daddy did another one his famous routines for us, just out of the clear blue sky. We had finished eating, and Mom was upstairs getting dressed.I had handed Daddy his morning medications, which he dutifully popped into his mouth. As he took a sip of water to swallow the pills, he reached up and kind of flipped his ear over at us, pretending that his ear was the a handle he had to twist to swallow. He had a huge grin on his face, and my sister and I roared with laughter. He used to do that for us all the time when we were kids. Our laughter prompted him to give us the variation we also remembered: he twisted his ear and stuck out his tongue at the same time! None of us could stop laughing. Mom came down to see what was so funny, and he did it for her, making her laugh out loud, too.
It was such a great moment in time; it was as if nothing at all had changed, and we were still little girls whose Daddy loved to make them laugh. Another precious memory to store away and cherish.
Daddy would sit with his left arm on the table, and his left hand next to his head. He would take a dime, and with much fanfare, press it against his inner forearm, twisting it, grunting a little, and so on. It would drop a few times, and he'd pick it up and try again. Eventually, with a great flourish, the dime would appear in his ear! No single performance was ever enough for any kid. Daddy would do it over and over again, letting us all try it for ourselves. The more we failed to be able to push a dime through our arms and into our ears, the more awed we were. I enjoyed the magic even more as an adult when I watched Daddy mystify my nephew with the trick.
I was reminded of this the other day. My older sister and I had been having breakfast with my parents, and Daddy did another one his famous routines for us, just out of the clear blue sky. We had finished eating, and Mom was upstairs getting dressed.I had handed Daddy his morning medications, which he dutifully popped into his mouth. As he took a sip of water to swallow the pills, he reached up and kind of flipped his ear over at us, pretending that his ear was the a handle he had to twist to swallow. He had a huge grin on his face, and my sister and I roared with laughter. He used to do that for us all the time when we were kids. Our laughter prompted him to give us the variation we also remembered: he twisted his ear and stuck out his tongue at the same time! None of us could stop laughing. Mom came down to see what was so funny, and he did it for her, making her laugh out loud, too.
It was such a great moment in time; it was as if nothing at all had changed, and we were still little girls whose Daddy loved to make them laugh. Another precious memory to store away and cherish.
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