When a mother prefers cards and bingo to cooking and childcare . . .<\/p>\n
Winnipeg Downs<\/strong><\/p>\n Games of chance. Sleight of hand. Games invented to hide in the nausea-inducing verboten slot My hand. A mother rather like that species sandwiches or fry up some baloney. Midnight shuffle A waitress\u2014blinded by Chinese restaurant-light She can rest in her La-Z Boy, now that the little buggers When a mother prefers cards and bingo to cooking and childcare . . . Winnipeg Downs Games of chance. Sleight of hand. Games invented to wash us out of her lush, chestnut hair, setting little sister and me off to stoop and scoop discarded tickets. Plucky as yard hens. Two bags full. Staggered, not by […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[10],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/heatherhaley.com\/hh2\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/321"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/heatherhaley.com\/hh2\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/heatherhaley.com\/hh2\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/heatherhaley.com\/hh2\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/heatherhaley.com\/hh2\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=321"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/heatherhaley.com\/hh2\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/321\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/heatherhaley.com\/hh2\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=321"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/heatherhaley.com\/hh2\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=321"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/heatherhaley.com\/hh2\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=321"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nto wash us out of her lush, chestnut hair,
\nsetting little sister and me off to stoop and scoop
\ndiscarded tickets. Plucky as yard hens. Two bags
\nfull. Staggered, not by one-too-many beers
\nbut a winning wager, she whooped I can buy
\nyou girls supper! Dragged around like carrion
\nin a diesel-rank yellow Beetle, we fought<\/p>\n
\nwhere balled-up fists could not reach.
\nDutifully she ordered a Mama burger
\nthough professing to prefer the Teen. Two bites. I bet
\nshe had no appetite after six months of whiplash prescription.
\nHer lumpy thumbs hefted fivers, entering the weekly lottery,
\nblowing crumbs of crud off a scratch & win ticket between pulls
\non a machine-rolled fag, corduroy car coat pockmarked
\nwith cigarette burns. Bingo-lottery-horse-and card-playing loser.<\/p>\n
\nof turtle that leaves the clutch in a lurch to hatch,
\nscuttling down to the tavern, I mean, ocean. To be fair,
\nshe always returned to pour salt on our sugar<\/p>\n
\nback to our shack behind the white fence of birch
\nto catch me in the hook of her hand, give me something
\nto cry about. On special occasions
\nher bad nerves, moods, might recede.
\nChristmas especially mollified her.<\/p>\n
\nbrutal as the belly of an illuminated submarine\u2014
\nshe did not see us, our saucer eyes, our brightness,
\nso busy she was rubbing lucky charms
\nand rusty magic lamps. Telling stories. Lying
\nin bed reading True Confessions, liking her coffee crisp.<\/p>\n
\nare grown. Against all odds.
\nNow that she\u2019s toothless, painless and respectable
\nexcept for the plethora of aces up her sleeve.
\nIn no position to coerce, she cajoles
\nus into playing gin rummy. Crib. I have to laugh,
\nthe way she groans when dealt the joker,
\nas if she knows him intimately.<\/code><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"