Totally Quackers


Truth Serum


By Linda Madrid


As hard as it may seems the search for Ms. Quackers sometimes has to come to a stand still while this Fairy God mother catches up on house cleaning and laundry (ugh).  I wonder if I could get paid for being a roving reporter for the “Empty M.T. Gab”. (A question for Val’ Views.)  I then could afford a housekeeper, pool person, and a bathe tub duster.   Johnny suggested “a live in” from Costa Rica.  I really don’t think I have to go any further than Cincinnati for “a live in”. By the time inspections are over at Mercy Laboratories, I might have to add on rooms for the people that would like to become “a live in”.  I might even have to add special accommodations for a certain Pooch and Kitty. (I hope they can get a long with each other. Kitty does look like a troublemaker.)



Baby Quackers and Junior can organize searches for the little people. (I am sure there is a Tiny town section in Atlanta and I would want to keep everyone happy.)

I can even set up group therapy sessions for all of us. (Sessions are on non-paid time, of course) 



One of the great things about all the traveling that I have done in search of Ms. Quackers is the insight I have gained about myself. I discovered that I do like beer (Belgium beer of course).   This is dangerous thing at my age for I already have a set of Dun laps’ (dun lapped over my belt, that is).


I also discovered that the third bottle of wine of the evening affects me like truth serum (finding this out at my daughter’s future in-laws house may not have been a good time.)  When one is traveling with ones mother, this can be an enlightening experience or an embarrassing experience. (Johnny was no help, I believe he just kept laughing and refilling my glass with wine after my story got started.)


It was the story of Junior High (A. D. Simpson Salt mines) and the lovely teachers I had there (cough cough). There was Mad dog Mattie, English teacher (one of the reasons I have a mental block when it comes to Grammar); Apple core Alice, Math teacher; Spider legs Hiese, geography teacher; and I would not want to leave out Lip Stick Lola, spelling teacher. (Any wander I can’t spell). It was a story about the wonderful Christmas Candy my mother had spent long hours making and the boxes of candy that did and did not get delivered to those lovely teachers. (True meaning of Lovely in this case is old, withered and meaner than junkyard dog.) I don’ t mean to leave you hanging in suspense but in order to continue this story I need a couple more glasses of wine. 


The ultimate discovery that I have made from my search for Ms. Quackers is best summed up by the bumper sticker my daughter gave me for Christmas.


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