"Look, Mama!"
"Mama, Mierd's telling you wrong! I just eat the ones that
crack when I punch my needle in 'em!"
Mama didn't even look around. She spread another dampened
pillowcase on the ironing board and pressed her hot iron back and
forth, back and forth, along the crocheted trimming.
As soon as Mierd set the pan back on the floor between our
feet, I reached for more corn.
"Bandershanks, you're clumsy with your needle on purpose! See
how long my string is? And look at yours! I bet you ain't got
fourteen grains on it. Quit grabbing all the biggest grains!"
"You're making me spill it, Mierd!
"Girls! Girls! Christmas Eve's no time for sisters to be
quarreling." Mama folded the pillowcase as fast as she could and
gave it a final lick with the smoothing iron. She glanced down at
Mierd and me and at the half-empty pan of corn. She couldn't see
the sour face Mierd was making at me. "Now y'all make haste and
finish stringing your popcorn. We've got to go on up to the
church and help Aunt Vic. She's worked so hard getting up the
program, the least the rest of us can do is have the church ready
tonight.
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