Tucked In

by Debbra Summers
(Hastings, Ontario, Canada)

I am a little girl. It is bedtime and I smell like Ivory soap and Mr. Bubbles bubble bath. The sheets smell like the sun and wind. My nightie smells like outside too. I watch my Gran peel off the many layers she so carefully put on this morning in this same room. Only now it is in the opposite order. She unties the apron bow from behind her back and lifts the full bib from around her neck. She steps out of her cotton house dress and stoops to pick up the man-size tissue she had forgotten she tucked in there. She slides out of the white, lacey full slip and the laceless baggy, boy-leg underpants. Off snaps the bra. It's big and long and so are her breasts. The pink - I know now the colour was flesh - satiny corset was next. This takes a while as she methodically loosens each criss-crossed ribbon, taking care not to let it escape from its eyelet; all the way down to the garters at the bottom which held up her natural beige stockings. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she carefully unhooks each stocking and rolls it down until she reaches her toes. With everything in its place - including me - it was time to wind and set the clock. Tic tock tic tock. Hurry up or I'll be asleep and miss my goodnight hug, I think as my eyes struggle to stay open. I know she has one more thing to do and then she will slide in beside me and I will snuggle into her neck and drift off to the smell of Noxema...