Motherhood, The Second OldestProfession by Erma Bombeck Read Free Book Online Page B

you are willing to allow me to serve as your president until we move out of the country, there is still another reason.
    I don't drive.
    Anticipating your reply, I don't like to ride with anyone either.
    Regards,
    Eileen Whorf
    October 4, 1978
    Look, Loretta, I don't even know who Walt Whitman is! Eileen Whorf
    October 7, 1978
    Loretta:
    I accept.
    Eileen Whorf Reluctant President of the Walt Whitman Poetry Club
    BARFY WHITCOMB
    (Author of the annual Christmas
    Newsletter)
    Christmas, 1982
    Dear Friends and Relatives:
    Heigh. Ho, everyone.
    Another year has gone by, and it's time to bring you up to date on the Whitcombs.
    Our Lewiston took his college entrance exams and was accepted at Harvard. (Sob. Sob. Sixteen seems so young to go to school so far from home.) Bob and I will drive him to Boston, as he is talking about taking his Russian icon collection with him. (You can't tell children anything!)
    As you can see by the enclosed picture, Melody has certainly filled out. She is following in her mother's footsteps at Seward High by being named head of the Pom and Flag drill team. The head of Pom and Flag is automatically named Prettiest Girl in the Class and Homecoming Princess at the Farewell Waltz. The theme this year is “Some Enchanted Evening.” You're going to die, but that was exactly the same theme as the year I was Princess! Couldn't you scream?
    Bob has had another promotion since last year's letter, putting us in another tax bracket (ugh). I am busy with my volunteer work. Last year I gave seventy-four phone hours to soliciting baked goods for the Bake-A-Rama. I was named Top Call Girl by the League.In June, the Whitcombs “roughed it” on a camping venture. Imagine traveling six hundred miles with no Cuisinart! Our camper was forty-five feet long and Bob went crazy trying to back it into a spot in the campgrounds. Melody said it was what he got for not going where there was valet parking. Melody is a stitch. (Three of her quotes have been used by Reader's Digest.)
    I must say it was a trip to remember. We saw a bird eating bread off a picnic table and one day visited a discount house. You have to admit, Barry Whitcomb married adventure!
    Tragedy struck the household in August. Chelsey, our prize-winning poodle, was raped by a German shepherd who forced his way in through the mail drop. No one fought harder for her honor than Bob.
    Bob and I went to State for our twentieth reunion. You can imagine my shock when the usher directed us to the “student section.” Everyone wanted to know what we did to stay so eternally young. We don't do anything special. We just eat properly, exercise regularly, and are rich.
    I want to thank all of you who commented on last year's letter. (You know, the one where I paraphrased all the Whitcombs' achievements to “The Night Before Christmas.”) It's gratifying to know that someone appreciates what it takes to get something to rhyme with “opulence.”
    Joyeux Noel
    Feliz Navldad
    Merry Christmas
    Barfy and Bob
    Melody and Lewiston Chelsey and Bruno
    BILLIE
    (Author of letter to former classmate
    regarding impending visit)
    April I2, 1982
    Dear Sal:
    What a surprise to hear from you. I can't believe it was three years ago since you and your family last visited. But then I counted hack to when I got the sofa recovered and new mattresses (is Tommy toilet-trained yet?) and the car repainted, and you're right. Three uneventful years.
    Since you are such a good friend, I know you will understand when I tell you we are sorry we are not going to be home when you pass through this time, even though you did not pin your visit down to a definite date. There are so many reasons, I hardly know where to begin.
    First, Mother has become a problem. Whenever she has a “spell,” we must run. I know this sounds vague and mysterious, but I'll explain later, when I have more time. It's sort of like your little Warren. Does he still love to watch fire?
    Bill and I may go around the world all