Will You Sign My Book?

Margie: Edna, look what I found in the attic this morning. It's our autograph books that we had when we were girls. Just look at all the nice things people wrote. Well, in my book anyway.

Gail Green's grandpa says, "Margie, you are the prettiest girl in school. Will you marry me when we grow up? I will buy you a house."

Isn't that sweet? Read one of yours, Edna.

Edna: Well my goodness, would you look at those old things! I haven't seen those in years; bless Mama's packrat heart for hanging on to them.

You want me to share one of my friend's notes? Okay, here's one that Stanley Richmond's grandpa wrote to me: "You are so sweet and kind, and I'm sorry that I ever snuck that frog into your lunch pail. Please don't tell my mother." And I never did, either. He may have been a mama's boy when we were young, but he and I sure did have some good times when we were teenagers up in the hayloft at the Richmond Farm.

Margie: Edna, we don't need that much information. My word!

Look what Jake Green's grandpa wrote me:

"Roses are red
Violets are blue
I love you, Margie
Do you love me too?"

I almost married that young man, Edna, but he just didn't know how to kiss!

Edna: You're a fine one to talk about too much information, you hussy! Oh look, do you remember old Miss Dunwoody? My lands, she taught all us kids at Jericho Primary School at one time or another, didn't she? Just listen to what she wrote, "Dearest Edna, you will go far in life with your intelligence and zeal. Don't let your sister lead you astray." You see? Even then you were a troublemaker, Margie.

Margie: Edna, you made that up! She said no such thing. You tried to lead me astray but I'm too good a person.

Would you look at this one? Lawsy me. Remember Gertrude Bailey? She says, "Margie, you keep your eyes off my Albert. You hear me? I won't have it. Tell that to your sister too. You both are old flirts and I'll pull your hair out."

Edna: Oh lord, I remember her. She was a sour old biddy even when she was a little girl, wasn't she?

You know Margie, I like reminiscing as much as the next person, but maybe it's better to leave some of these memories up in the attic.