And with a roll of the random number generator...

... the winner is #1. Congratulations Angie!

Now that we have business out of the way, I will tell you about my mother's best friend. She has two really. One growing-up friend and one raise-your-peeps-together friend. I think this is an important distinction and I would bet there are many women out there who can draw the line in the sand of pre- vs post- kids. That childbirth thing is a defining moment, I tell ya.

My mother's growing-up friend is known to me as Aunt Mary. I don't remember a time when I didn't know Aunt Mary. I was in high school before I knew she wasn't actually my aunt and her kids weren't actually my cousins. I thought Aunt Mary's mother was one of my grandmothers. I called her Mamaw. We didn't see aunt Mary very often, but she eventually moved close enough to us that her kids went to high school with me. My sister and I introduced them around school as our cousins. I will always think of them as my cousins. Maybe they think of me that way too.

There is one particular story from Mama and Aunt Mary's crazy high school days (well, as crazy as you can get in a small town in Mississippi with a graduating class of 18) that sticks with me. The two of them were majorettes in the band. In those days, and in some small towns still, being the majorette was likened to being Miss America. One Mardi Gras, the two tall, thin brunettes were marching in a parade in Biloxi. Teased brown hair flew as they threw batons in the air catching them with arm-length gloved hands. They wore leotards with capes and tall, high-heeled, white patton marching boots. As they marched down the streets of Biloxi, they were spotted by two handsome airmen from Keesler Air Force Base. The two boys searched them out after the parade and bought them a Coke. Quickly it was time for the girls to go home on the school's bus with the rest of the band. Home was a forty-five minute ride from Biloxi, and even longer on the bus. They left the airmen, thinking they would never see them again.

About two weeks later, one of the airmen and his sergeant showed up on my mother's porch, asking to see her. When my mother came to the door (after my grandfather grilled them about who they were, how they knew her and how they found out where she lived), she was astonished to see the airman and this other soldier. Apparently, the airmen remembered the name of the little town. Since neither boy had a car, they persuaded the sergeant to take them to the town. They stopped in at the one gas station in town and asked where each of the girl's lived. Being in small town Mississippi, everyone knew these two girls, the majorettes, and where they lived. The sargeant dropped one boy at Aunt Mary's house, then went on to my mother's house.

As the story goes, my grandfather let my mother go to town with these fellas, with the sergeant as chaperon. They double-dated to the drugstore soda fountain to get another Coke. News spread quickly throughout town that these two airmen came from Biloxi to search out these girls. Mama and Aunt Mary's boyfriends weren't too excited about the news. There wasn't a confrontation, but after they left town that day, Aunt Mary and Mama never saw those airmen again.

It is so fun to hear Mama tell this story because she struts through the living room, throwing her imaginary baton, reliving that moment in her mind.

Come back tomorrow to hear about Miss Jackie, Mama's raising-your-kids-together friend.