things aren't always as they seem

Chester and Bob

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Chester and Bob. Two individuals that I grew up with, as did a lot of my youthful peers. I’m thinking they are confined to the southwestern region of the States. When I got older (ahem), I found out they didn’t exist. Or, they didn’t exist as I knew them.

Let me introduce you to the remnants of my youth in west Texas. Yes, I kid you not, this is how I used to pronounce them. Actually, I still pronounce them this way, but I “see” them correctly while I’m talking . . . . sometimes.

Chester Droors. Now known to me as “chest of drawers,” that piece of furniture in the bedroom where my sock droor is.

Bob Waire. This really was “barbed wire,” that fence that pierced my hands and grabbed a hank of hair, ripping up my Levis and t-shirts when I crawled between two of the lines, holding one line up, one line down. Some people may have pronounced this as Bobbed Waire, but that’s so wrong!

Nota Republic. Notary Public. Who knew? Never a republic and not a public either, but a person with a title and a stamp. I have to concentrate when I use this term, or it will come out sounding just as it did when I was 11 or so (NO-tuh ree-PUB-lik).

Do you have “anyone” you want me to meet from your youth?

Postaday2011 #40


Author: Tresha Barger

Writer (blogs, humor, short stories, poetry) and artist (miniature art quilts, watercolor paintings, soft sculpture dolls)

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