Rotten Kool-Aid

Probably not one of the best nights of my sixteenth year.  My oldest sister, S, was twenty-five, divorced and always up for fun as she tested the waters of freedom.  Even with her two younger sisters. 

From our point of view?  She was thin, pretty, had a car and was old enough to buy beer and liquor.  At fifteen years old?  That is sometimes the definition of a good time.

For the life of me, i can’t remember how it came to pass, but S hosted a sleep-over at her “swinging single gal” apartment.  Me, sister, T, two neighborhood friends, TB & JB, and the token man-boy, J.  He was my gorgeous best friend, and first love.  Unrequited, of course.  

It was just a Saturday night, with pizza, junk food and music.  And booze.  First beer, then we started raiding S’s liquor shelf for the grocery store vodka. 

Oh, wait.  Almost forgot… my niece, DQ, was there.  She was five years old.  We kinda almost forgot that night, too, because she was pretty quiet, and went to bed by 11:00 pm or so… before we got really drunk and stupid. 

Memories of the evening are a bit fuzzy, but the one i really haven’t been able to shake – despite a few decades of effort – is that somewhere during the evening, i saw my 25 year old sister making out with my 15 year old best friend*.  That was as far as it went, but i remember thinking “C’mon, S… you’ve got enough men chasing you!”

Needless to say, the next morning was grim.  We were all passed out on couches, chairs and sprawled on the floor.  Slowly there was human movement within the apartment as we scratched our bits, held our heads and said “what the fuck?” while shaking off the stupor…

Young  DQ was up early, bright eyed and bushy tailed, and headed to the kitchen to forage for breakfast.  Her small voice from around the corner – “Mommy, this kool-aid tastes rotten”.  S got to the kitchen in short order, and retrieved the “vodka kool-aid cocktail” from her child’s hand, replacing it with milk. 

Trailer parks are full of rotten kool-aid, kid.  Never forget it…

* He was gorgeous, and an absolute chick magnet for older girls/women.  This was before he was out of the closet and contentedly gay.

25 thoughts on “Rotten Kool-Aid

  1. Along the way you survived. Not only did you survive, but also with morals and scruples, and a sense of values that has made you the intelligent woman that writes such honest and open posts about another lifetime.

    You keep writing, I’ll keep reading.

  2. jimmy – thank you. there are moments when i realize i’m a complete mess, but try not to blame anyone or anything else on being a mess. it’s my mess. i own it.

    stephanie – my niece, DQ, had to hone her survival skills at a young age. a lot of ‘stupid’ went on around her as a child. i forget that sometimes.

    rob – it makes you numb, i’d guess. jaded and numb.

  3. This reminds me vaguely of the rivalry my two older sisters have, on stuff like this. And they have a significant age gap between them as well. Interesting that you sorta hint at the same thing. Makes me wonder if this is a universal thing among sisters.

    I recently moved my blog status to private due to some weird hate mail, and would like to add you to my list of readers.

    peace, SA

  4. s.le – memory triggered after seeing a local theater production with some pretty lousy parenting involved. funny what makes these things surface…

    sonny – not really a rivalry. my sister has to have a new man lined up before she can unload the prior one, and it’s a pattern that went back to her teenage years. me? not exactly… i’m better on my own, as are any potential gentlemen friends. i’ve sent an e-mail for info on your blog. sorry the troll got you…

    kono – i think we were all pretty horrified that the kid grabbed the leftover booze someone had put in the fridge. we ran out of OJ to mix with the vodka. kool aid seemed a good idea at the time…

    unbearable banishment – it’s not like anyone put her to bed, i think she took care of it herself. such is the trailer park way… and i really hope there was nothing more with my sister and J. i mean, for fuckssake, he didn’t even LIKE women…

    ~m – only because that would have required preparation and a visit to the store. no one was that functional!

  5. nursemyra – because your parents loved you. all children need sleep. and all parents need their children to sleep…

    syncopated eyeball – i wish i didn’t. seriously, some of this shit is just awful…

    writerdood – you have an excellent point. there were worse things for her to drink that morning…

    blazngscarlet – no, but that’s a damn fine idea. we did the booze in the bathtub my freshman year of college. no fish, though…

  6. healingmagichands – i know. bad decisions permeate all socio-economic strata. wow. that was a lot of big words for me… and i like the ‘slumber party’ description… more like a ‘get stupid drunk and pass out party’….

  7. The euphemistic “rotten Kool-Aid” warning reminds me of a dark admonition mom gave to me in about 1973, the peak of my childhood obsession with lick-and-stick “tattoo” transfers from out of Cracker Jacks boxes and gumball machines. My limbs were festooned with crude butterflies and spaceships, and my babysitter at the time was my nineteen-year-old aunt and her bell-bottomed boyfriend, Louie. (Linda and Louie were so poor that they had to MAKE their own cigarettes and then SHARE them.)

    “Look at me” ordered mom–“This is VERY important: If you ever find any LITTLE TATTOOS laying around at Auntie Linda’s place, DO NOT PUT THEM IN YOUR MOUTH.”


    Daisy Fae, I really enjoy your stories. …And thumbs way up to anyone with monkeytoes (aka “gripper toes”).

  8. auntfeminina – welcome to The Park, and thank you for stopping by! oh, the fears of blotter acid being handed out to innocent children! my hippie friends would never leave it lying about… cost too much to waste on the neighborhood rugrats. that’s a great story…

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