Page 44 - Self Talk

always gave him a jaunty air, mother in her very best dress and us kids in our Sunday school clothes. Our perfect Navy family was ready for inspection.
The base Commander arrived in his official car, dressed to the nines in the whitest uniform with more colored ribbons than I had ever seen. At the appropriate distance like he'd done a million times before, my father snapped to attention and saluted. The Commander saluted back. Less officially, he shook mother's hand, tousled my brother's hair, patted my sister’s head, and pinched my cheeks the way older men always do. He said some things to my father, I don't remember the exact words, but they had something to do with my father's Navy record. I wondered why he was giving my father all the attention when mother was the reason we were all there, but she didn't seem to notice.