The Egg Beater

It's funny the things you do when you are a young girl. I had a great girlfriend when I was growing up who used to come over every so often to spend the day. I lived in a wonderful, warm farmhouse built in the mid 1800's. Along with the house, of course, we had several barns, a chicken coop and an outhouse. For some reason, all my mom's siblings thought that our barn was a great place to "store" their things when they were not needed, but not ready to be thrown out yet. I had an uncle that was in the middle of a separation from his girlfriend, her name was April, and I remember that only because I thought at that time how wonderfully od that name was; beautiful, but just different. My mother told him it was okay to store some trunks in the big barn for a while. Anyway, my friend and I would spend many days meandering around the farm and befriending all the animals. We had chickens, geese, pigs, rabbits, a pony, a cow (don't ask what happened to her) as well as the usual hound dogs, beagles and cats (many strangers also thought that the barns were a good place to "dump" their unwanted cats, who were, of course, always welcome!) One day, we decided to start rummaging through some old trunks and boxes of my uncle's belongings. We came across some clothes, blankets, dishes and also an od old-fashioned egg beater, you know, the kind that you just crank the handle and the two twirly metal things would spin and beat your eggs. It was a grungy old metal thing with a blue wooden handle. How fun it was to stand there holding it in one hand and cranking it with the other. Those beaters sure did get spinning fast. It was very amusing, for a minute, and then suddenly, for some strange reason, I decided to see how it would work on my friends beautiful blond locks. So, away I went. Masher to the side of the head and I started cranking that sucker until, well, you know what happened, her pretty, shiney blond hair was impossibly entangled in this vintage beater. And there she stood, beater just hanging there, looking at me with "The Look," as if to say, What the hell were you thinking? She was always such a gorgeous girl; tall, thin, beautiful face and that great shiney blond head of hair. Oooops! Oh, well, she still loves me, and to this day, I don't even remember how we got it out, but I always laugh when I see one of those old-fashioned beaters!