The Platters

Will always remind me of Mother.

They are the music of Pine Sol and Endust sprayed on feather dusters. Of bright colored bandanas and old sweat pants and coffee with Baileys and the wind coming in creaky old windows held open with box fans and wooden spoons and rulers.

Of impromptu dancing down the hallway with my hands full of clean folded towels.

Of hysterical laughter during Blue Moon and stories of my Pappy during Smoke Gets in Your Eyes or Only You.

Of laughing as the ash from the cigarette held between Mother's teeth fell onto the kitchen floor because she jostled it loose mopping.

The Platters will always make me hear "Shawnie, don't you *dare* step on that floor until it dries!"

I always did.

I still do.

*grins*