Gloves

First Gloves

Helen sat lightly dozing, in the nursery rocking chair holding Mart while he finished his lunch.  The window was open and the curtains were billowing with the soft late spring breeze while the soft whistling of bobwhite quail filled the air.

Thirty month old Brian was standing holding on to the wooden back of an old cane weave chair next to the crib.  The cane of the chair rustled and crackled every time he turned to look at his mom and then back to the crib to watch the baby.  He had been enamored of watching Trixie ever since she came home from the hospital. He became even more diligent once he saw that the baby had learned how to suck her thumb.

Suddenly, Helen jerked Mart away from her breast, saying, "No bite, Mart.  No bite."

She caught Brian's interested gaze and continued with a chuckle, "It may be time as part of his birthday celebration, to teach your brother to drink from a cup.

Helen started straightening her clothes as she mused about the plans for the party later in the afternoon.  "Daddy will be cooking hamburgers on the grill.  I have baked beans to heat in the oven, and potato salad in the fridge.  The Lynches and Mr. James and Miss Nell will be here later and I imagine will play with you boys for a while before we eat.  I have a little cake for the birthday boy to tear into, and a larger cake for the rest of us.  Oh, and  I need to remember to take the camera downstairs so we can get pictures."

Helen was putting Mart down for a nap in his new toddler bed, when Brian suddenly called out to his mother.  "Mommy.  Sissie is bleeding."

She started up and stepped over to the crib.  "What do you mean Brian?  I don't see anything."

"There on her nose.  She is bleeding.  Not much but it is there."

Helen looked closer, and gave a gentle laugh.  "Brian, she is okay.  She just scratched her nose a little bit.  I need to find the baby nail clippers and clip her nails.  It probably would be a good idea to put her in baby gloves, too, so she doesn't scratch herself even more.

Second Gloves.

Helen was weary.  She had thought it was bad when Brian and Mart both had chicken pox at the same time while she was pregnant with Trixie.  Maybe it didn't seem so bad then because Mr. James and Miss Nell spent a lot of time reading to the boys and keeping them occupied.

"No Trixie.  Don't scratch!  Give it a chance, and the nice soothing oatmeal bath should make you feel better soon.

"But they itch, Moms.  Did the chickens give these to me?  You know how the chickens are always scratching around in the coop?  The poxes look kind of yucky like chicken poop."

Helen grabbed Trixie's hands to stop her from scratching.  "Here, lets cover your hands with your socks, and maybe that will keep you from opening the blisters and spreading hem around.  I'll call Daddy and have him stop at the pharmacy for some small medicated cotton gloves.  Then you won't be able to scratch as much, but you will be able to use your fingers to hold crayons so you can color."


Third Gloves

Trixie was anxious to start riding, but she realized deep in her soul that she needed to listen to what Reagan was saying, "You will be fine in your jeans and tennis shoes.  But you have to remember to keep your heels down, so you don't get your feet caught in a stirrup.  Remember!  Keep your heels down.  Oh, and here is an old pair of Honey's riding gloves.  They will come in handy so the reigns will slide through your hands easily and not cause blisters.

Fourth Gloves

Trixie was furiously taking notes as her mentor spoke to her  Crime Scene Investigation course.

"The most important thing to remember when investigating a crime, is not to contaminate the scene before you have bagged all the evidence and taken all the necessary notes and crime photos." Captain Molinson paused  and asked, "Are there any questions?"

As he looked over the class auditorium, he saw the hand.  He groaned.  Trixie was the most determined student he had ever met.  Her question was sure to be good.

Trixie stood and addressed the Captain.  "Sir, I realize that fiction is a long way from real life, but there is something that you never see on television crime shows, and you didn't mention it either.   Isn't it is also a good idea to style your hair so it doesn't get mixed up with the other evidence.  Most male officers wear their hair pretty short.  Female officers with long hair on the other hand, might have their hair pulled back with a plastic band,  but that doesn't seem like it would be quite enough to prevent loose hairs from the officer contaminating the crime scene."

Molinson replied, "Your correct Ms. Belden.  Hair coverings are commonly used in autopsy or a crime lab,  but they should also be used at the start of a crime scene investigation to avoid contaminating the evidence along with shoe coverings and your regulation plastic gloves ."


Final Gloves

Trixie sputtered.  "Oh my gosh, Honey.  I am sure that you and Diana will help me get these gloves on, but how am I ever supposed to get these off after the wedding?   They are too long and tight, and have about a million buttons!"

Diana grinned.  As the only married female Bobwhite, she had intimate knowledge of gloves.  "Trixie,  believe me.  Jim will have more fun than you can ever imagine, slowly unbuttoning each and every one of those buttons on those long silky evening gloves."