We all have family stories that just won’t die.  We laugh about them, roll our eyes, and bury them, and then one of your offspring continues to bring it back to life.  It’s not even about the actual story so much as the reaction it gets when they dig it up…again.  We have some of those stories, and one of their absolute favorites is from a card game about 9 years ago.  We were on a family trip to Kauai, and we had taken our now son-in-law, Jake, with us for the first time.

One evening we were playing cards, drinking a little wine and telling stories. The girls were peppering us with questions, and before we knew it, Andy was regaling us with a story from his childhood.  He was recalling time spent with his friend Clint, who lived on a farm.  Nobody remembers anything about this story except Clint’s name and the noise Andy made to describe milking cows.  It was one of those unforgettable moments that had us falling out of our chairs laughing at a grown man making strange squishing sounds along with the motion of milking a cow.  This story gets brought up almost every single time the family is together.  It gets brought up when talking about old friends, while on vacation, when someone mentions a barn, when someone asks if he likes goat cheese (which has nothing to do with cows, I realize), when we are all drinking wine, or when one of the girls simply wants to embarrass Andy.  It just never gets old, and it only takes asking Andy about Clint or milking cows for the whole family to burst into laughter.  Even the newest family members have been brought up to speed, and even though they weren’t present at the time, the re-enactment of milking cows from each family member is enough to get them rolling.

Recently, our middle child dredged up another old story.  Years ago, for my birthday, Andy decided to buy me a piece of jewelry.  I had mentioned many times that I would love a bracelet, so I guess he must have been considering it? To this day, I am unsure what he was thinking when he entered that jewelry store.  I do know that he was trying his best. However, when he entered the store, he was clearly led astray by the bimbo working behind the counter, otherwise known as the sales lady. 

The details are unclear, but Andy obviously described me as someone footloose and fancy free with a penchant for all kinds of jewelry.  Maybe he told her I wanted a bracelet, and they were simply out of his budget.  Maybe she suggested something so far out of left field that he knew I wouldn’t have anything like it, and he felt safe making a purchase like that.  Again, the actual details of how this transpired are fuzzy.

All I know for sure is that when he brought home this beautifully gift-wrapped box that appeared to be the bracelet I had been dreaming of, I couldn’t wait to open it.  The girls were so impressed and in awe that their dad had gone rogue and purchased something so amazing without consulting them.  The anticipation was killing all of us.  

I opened the box, and there was a beautiful gold and diamond bracelet.  Before I could even touch it or get excited, he said the words that will be seared in my mind forever. 

Do you like it?  It’s an ankle bracelet!

In an instant, all the joy left my body and was replaced by absolute horror.  An ankle bracelet?  Did he not know me at all? After all of these years, how could he not know that the last part of my body that I would want to draw attention to or adorn with anything sparkly would be my ankles?  What was happening?  I felt dizzy.  Before I could even answer his question about how much I did not like this piece of jewelry, the girls began laughing hysterically and said, What were you thinking?  You know Mom HATES her ankles.  She will never wear that.  

He was so heartbroken and defeated because he knew in that moment that he had let someone talk him into something that seemed to make sense in the store.  

If it had been something inexpensive, I would have lied and said it was great.  I would never have worn it, but I wouldn’t have wanted to hurt his feelings.  This, however, cost real money, and there wasn’t a chance in you know what that I would ever wear that thing.  So, I told him the truth as gently as I could.  

The next day, I returned the gift and met the bimbo who sold my husband the ankle bracelet.  It made perfect sense as she was wearing multiple glittery chains on both of her skinny ankles.  She was clearly offended that I didn’t like the purchase, but I wasn’t there to put her at ease.  I just wanted my refund.

This story has been brought up almost yearly on my birthday or Mother’s Day, as the girls always have to ask if Dad bought me an ankle bracelet.  They think they are hilarious.

This year, we were in Maui right before Mother’s Day.  The night before we left, our middle daughter and her husband presented me with a card and a gift at dinner.  She smiled as she handed it to me, and I just knew she was up to something.  Inside was a puka shell ankle bracelet, and she had bought one for herself to match.  They both laughed hysterically.  I promptly put the gift and card away and told her she wasn’t funny, even though we all laughed.

She needled me the whole next day about how sad she was that I wasn’t wearing mine.  I’m sorry, but when it comes to my ankles, I don’t play games.  I will not, nor will I ever, wear an ankle bracelet.  I didn’t return the puka shell anklet, but I will keep it forever as I reminder of how truly diabolical my children can be.