Life in the Cheese Drawer

when we were still living in the austin house, my parents left me in charge one night while they went a meeting at church. i was probably 13 years old, liz would have been 9, jane 6, and charlie 5. 
jane was wiggling out a tooth the whole week, and while my parents were gone, we all stood around her in the bathroom, where she stood on a stool and wiggled that tooth right out in front of the mirror. 
tooth in hand, jane jumped off her stool and we all stared at the baby tooth that would get her at least 50¢. then came the game changer.
“can i smell it?” asked charlie.
we all looked at him like he was crazy. 
“what? I want to know what it smells like!”
i guess jane was ok with it, because she handed it over, and charlie gave that tooth a healthy sniff.
maybe a little too healthy –  the tooth went missing*.
we looked all over the bathroom for that tooth: all over the floor, under the sink, under the toilet, we swept the floor, shook out the rug, shook out our clothes, shook out our hair, and especially, asked charlie where on earth he put that tooth. we came to only one conclusion: he sniffed the tooth up into his head, and it was stuck in his brain. 
i called the church and asked for my parents, interrupting their meeting.
“charlie sniffed jane’s tooth up his nose!” they immediately left and came home to go through the same set of motions, with no tooth to be found. mom got out the flashlight and made him tilt his head back while she shined it up there. nothing. he was fine: could breathe, eat, talk normally. they shrugged and decided to see what happened, and nothing ever did. 
maybe they’ll find it when they do surgery to fix his face bones! if that happens i will poop a brick.
 
*jane wrote a note to the tooth fairy, who graciously left a meaningful note and probably $1 for her trouble.

charlie likes to share his distresses with his family. he waffles over the issues, tries to figure out what he should do, maybe he’ll whine about it, say he doesn’t want to do it.
meanwhile every one of his sisters is staring at him, wondering what on earth is wrong with him because what he’s describing is a no brainer and why have even wasted out time telling us this story; it should be DONE. get on it, lil bro!
one time, we were sitting in the living room at my parents’ house in new london during one such problem, and the same old chain of events were taking place. after listening to his plight, it was obvious he needed to do what needs to be done, but he just didn’t want to do it. 
all his sisters were ready to do this thing FOR him, it was so obvious what he should do, but he just didn’t want to. everyone just stared at him like “what is wrong with you! do this!” 
so i said,
“grow a pair of ovaries.”
because his balls sure weren’t doing much. 

this is my favorite charlie story. actually, this is my favorite story that charlie tells. if we’re together at a gathering and anything remotely comes up that reminds me of this story, i tell him to tell it. he rolls his eyes and says he doesn’t want to, but i always get my way because i’m the oldest and he’s the youngest and that’s the way things work.
amirite? 
i want to say it was thanksgiving of 2008. or it could have been 2009. or it was spring? it may have been the day i got 33 miles to the gallon on my malibu on my drive from fargo to north branch. BUT I DIGRESS.
i’m going to take some writer liberties and say that charlie’s friend from college, cody jerry, lives in north branch. i’m pretty sure he does, but just in case he doesn’t i’ll claim writer bias. also, i love that name because it’s so easy to remember – two first names, but one’s really his last name. cody jerry. anyway.
charlie was getting a ride either to st. cloud or to north branch to meet me and come to my house for an event (who knows what event that is at this point). charlie, it turns out, cannot eat fast food and then drive or ride in a car. i don’t know why. i don’t think he knows why. perhaps this will be fixed when he gets all better. either way, it’s bad news bears when he eats fast food and then sits in a car.
cody jerry was hungry, however, and decided to stop at arby’s. charlie, although he knew that it was bad news, was overcome by the power of arby’s and decided just this once he could eat something and be okay.
not the case.
just north of clearwater i believe, on I-94*, he had some stomach rumblings that would not stop and could not stop unless he found a bathroom pronto. unfortunately for charlie (and cody jerry’s car), no bathroom was in the immediate proximity. 
charlie finally got the ovaries to tell mr. jerry to pull over because if he didn’t, his car was soon to be a mess. cody jerry pulled over. charlie hightailed it to the woods.
now, there is a hat/beanie involved at this point. apparently charlie had this awesome hat that he was wearing (on his head) as he was fleeing to the woods to let loose his bowels (i’m sure he’s so glad i’m telling this story for the world to see). 
he made it to the confines of the woods. did his business. used some leaves to clean up. got back to cody jerry’s car, relieved and relieved, and they continued on their way to meet me.
but somewhere along the way…
“i LOST my HAT!” was the first thing he said to me. 
and you know, i almost believe him? i mean, it could have been that he was so overcome with distress in lower bowels that his hat flew off and is still sitting in the wooded area just north of clearwater. 
but a knitted hat would sure be a lot more comfortable to clean up with than some leaves. 
just sayin’.
 
*if he was north of clearwater, it had to be thanksgiving. we’re going with ’08.

part of my job as a social media person at a community college is to keep up with kids’ lingo these days. a couple years ago, it was nothing to see YOLO soaped on someone’s windshield, and we keep a running tally of how many times people tweet about ratchets. (for those of you who don’t know and unwilling to go to urban dictionary, a ratchet is a woman of ill repute.) (quite often, autocorrect will flip rctc to ratchet, which is really funny to rctc tweeters.)
the few months leading up to the new school year, i started seeing a lot of “you do you” – which pretty much means you keep on keeping on.
so charlie and i were sitting around one afternoon, and he said something along the lines of “i think i’m going to do XYZ later today.” and since i’d been entrenched in young-people lingo, i said “you do you, dude.” he thought it was the funniest thing and started laughing over the absurdity of the phrase. (when you think about it, it is an absurd phrase. but it makes sense.)
of course this morphed into a thing of late, with everything either one of us (and occasionally nate) vocalized taking part in responding with “you do you, dude.” depending on the situation and occasional word manipulation, it could take a different meaning, which really set him off (i’ll let you use your powers of deduction with that one). 
so i’m glad that jane decided to tell god/gaya/earth mother/higher being the other day to “you do you, dude” and that it’s become charlie’s mantra. because he really did adhere to it and loved saying it. it was funny and fitting at the same time.
 
******
 
i may have said it to him friday before nate and i left for menard’s in winona. he was waffling on whether or not to go up to the cities that night, and i probably said, “well, you do you, dude.”
i’ve been wondering if i had invited him to go to menard’s with nate and me if he would be sitting on my couch right now, ralf in his lap, maybe having a conversation about something where “you do you” would come up. 
if wishes were horses. hindsight. all that.
you do you.

while i was brainstorming charlie stories, i realized how difficult it is for me to come up with a lot of specific charlie-esque stories. i’m eight years older than him, so the dynamics between us is completely different than it is between me and my sisters or even between my sisters and him. i would have oodles of liz stories from when she was younger, and i’m sure jane could just rattle off a list of great stories about charlie (or not so great, since they seemed to be at each other’s throats for much of their childhoods). but that eight-year gap is a long time, especially when i’m 18 and he’s 10. i’m in college, and cha’s still hanging out in 5th grade? i missed half his growing up by not being in the same house as he was.
generally speaking, i was a pain to liz growing up (i stole her whistle), jane and liz had some space issues when they were younger, and charlie and jane, being one year apart, were a whole different story. but for the most part, charlie and i were pretty chill toward each other and got along 99% of the time. 
except…much of his childhood i remember him being a little poophead most of the time. he’d wile his way into places that he shouldn’t have been or knew that someone else wanted to be. every saturday, my aunt colettie would take us to todd park in austin by way of the bushaw bakery, and it was absolutely inevitable that charlie would somehow worm his way into that middle seat next to her. we all loved colettie and wanted to sit next to her, but he was her favorite and there was no way she could say no to him. even after we three girls just seethed and objected at his behavior, nope, colettie just told us to shush, let her drive in peace, charlie could be there. 
what a little putz.
over the past couple days, after coworkers and friends who don’t know charlie have checked out the caringbridge site, i have gotten more than one remark of, “he looks just like you.” we got that when we were young, too. (we also have the same looking toes.) we like a lot of the same stuff, but we’re fundamentally different, too. he’s extremely extroverted and outgoing while i’m introverted and quiet. jane’s introverted but outgoing, and liz is right down the middle-ish. he was always talking when he was little, whether it was while playing with matchbox cars, singing to himself while doing the dishes, chattering along on the way out the door.
and he was still that way while living with me for the last year! i’m a pretty quiet person who keeps a pretty quiet house. occasionally there will be outbursts of cat-related talk by either nate or me, but generally we’re quiet people. when i go home for holidays, i have to prepare myself for the chaos (and nate stays home a lot of the time).
but charlie walked in the door a year ago, and suddenly it was chat central: how his work went, what he’s doing this weekend, should he go back to school, can pitt come over, maybe he’ll go biking, how he needs to get some better hair conditioner. after nine years of living like a cloistered couple, suddenly nate and i had to make conversation with someone other than the cats (and ourselves – we do talk, people!). and, weirdly enough, i was ok with it.
well, this turned out to be less of a story and more of a weird mess of stuff.
but we’ve got some time left.

i have specific memories from each of my siblings’ births. with liz, i remember seeing the owatonna pizza hut on the drive up to minneapolis to meet her. kathleen, george, and i were in the car, and i had a new outfit on for the occasion. with jane, the morning of we had breakfast at harry’s in austin, and shortly after my parents were on their way up (and didn’t make it…but that’s another story). then my parents came back without a baby for a while, but eventually jane showed up.
when charlie was born, i was at the derry family reunion. my dad had driven me to the cities and dropped me off with bob and mimi, molly and lewis. we drove up to walker, had a grand ol’ time, i bought charlie something from the gift shop, and then we came back. the only memory that still sticks with me is stopping at a shop and being in the bathroom. the attendant came in and told molly and me that our dad was waiting for us. we looked at each other and laughed because bob’s not my dad. silly attendant!
i got home, and my mom greeted me at the door and pointed to the basinette that was in the kitchen. i tiptoed over to it and looked at this tiny, dark-haired person hanging out in the kitchen, sound asleep. it seemed like he, my mom, and i were the only people in the house, which could be possible; my dad could have taken liz and jane to be rambunctious elsewhere. it was dark outside, and the light was on over the sink, creating a glow through the basinette. i remember him just lying there, quiet and peaceful (though that would change…)
so here entered this fuzzy-headed little dude who finally broke the chain of girls my parents had. my other bookend. 

i’ve decided kablpomo will be happening, and it will be a tribute month to charlie. stay tuned for stories. 

catastrophic events yesterday may keep me from attempting (who am i kidding – i always finish) kablpomo this year. i may try a 30-word story, with a word a day. or i may just think some thoughts every day. we’ll have to see how this goes. 
keep my brother your thoughts and prayers.