(thank you to Part Time Pickers for allowing me use of the photo)
I come from a family of story-tellers and memory keepers. We are blessed to have documents, photos, and stories from both sides of the family.
One of our legendary stories involves my grandma, my mom, and a perfume machine. I had never seen one before Part Time Pickers posted the above photo the other day.
This machine has had the labels and prices changes, but the pink machine is obviously from the 1950s.
Sometime at the end of the 1950s or early 1960s, my grandpa planned a summer vacation. My grandma became ill sometime before they left, but grandpa thought they should go ahead and leave.
They packed into the car and set off on a sizzling hot day in New Mexico. Grandma laid down on the back seat and groaned. Her misery filled the car and the heat added to the stifling atmosphere.
(My mom and grandma a few years before this story.)
Grandpa stopped at a service station and my young mom dragged her mother into the bathroom to freshen up. Mom said they used the facilities and then washed up. Grandma splashed cold water on her face and arms trying to find relief from her misery.
When she turned from the sink, she spied the perfume machine on the wall. “Dig a nickel out of my purse. Maybe some perfume will make me feel better.”
Mom dug through the purse and pulled out a nickel. Grandma put the nickel in the machine and made her choice. (My sister and I just realized we don’t know what kind of perfume grandma chose and our mom has passed away. Hint–ask the questions and write down the details! You’ll wish you had–trust me.)
Grandma pushed the lever. No perfume.
She twisted the lever. No perfume.
She tapped the machine. No perfume.
She shook the machine. No perfume.
She repeated everything. No perfume.
Wondering if anything had jammed the machine, grandma leaned down to look and the machine immediately sprayed her in the face.
Grandma and my mom burst into hysterical laughter and grandma spit perfume while trying to catch her breath.
Meanwhile, grandpa had sent his terribly ill wife into the bathroom and now heard screaming. He began beating on the door yelling, “What’s wrong?!”
Mom said they couldn’t stop laughing long enough to open the door and let him know what happened.
When they calmed down and climbed back in the car, Grandma spit perfume all across New Mexico.
Our sweet grandma was the girl that if anything crazy was going to happen, it was going to happen to her. We have other grandma stories, but the perfume machine is legendary.
Thanks, Part Time Pickers for sharing this great picture. I enjoyed having something to picture now when I think of my grandma and mom screaming and spitting perfume in a hot bathroom somewhere in the southwest on a stifling hot summer day.
Had you ever seen one of these?
Does your family have any legendary tales?