Texas is a haven for roaches. They certainly flourish and, as near as I know, live
without fear of predators They are a fact of life and roundly hated by all Texans. We
grew up with roaches; there were the big black/brown ones that came in from outside
and, inside, lived the smaller ones we called German roaches. We had no choice but to
adapt our lifestyle to the behavior of this pest. Mother fought them daily. They always
won. It’s one of the conditions of living in Texas. As I’ve said, we adapted.

Clothing was not left in hampers; that was an invitation waiting to be answered. I don’t
know about the big ones, but those small brown German roaches would eat anything,
and clothing was no exception. A lifetime of fighting roaches left an abiding hatred
coupled with caution and good sense about where you left a piece of clothing. I’m
saying this because, at the heart of this story are the events surrounding Mother, the
belt to her new dress, and Aunt Vera’s roaches.

Mother had an aunt that she loved like a mother. Mother lived with Aunt Vera through
most of her late adolescence and up until her marriage to my dad. We all called her
Aunt Vera. Her immediate family called her Potsy. No one ever said how she got this
name; it was a term of affection. Perhaps it referred to her shape. She was shaped
something like a fire plug. In my memory, she was always the same shape. She was
short, wide and very sturdy; her legs were very stout and solid. In spite of this, she
never seemed to be fat. Maybe she was but she was so solid, the word fat just seemed
Wrong.

I can say that most members of the extended family were given nicknames soon after
birth. These names stuck throughout childhood and into adulthood. This means that
you would meet a 34 year old man with a full head of hair called “Slick” and find out
later that he got his name at birth because he was born without hair. Potsy is certainly
not the oddest appellation I came across.

At any rate, Mother loved staying with Aunt Vera when Daddy was out of town. He
was a troubleshooter in the oil field and was called out at all hours of the day and night
for out of town jobs. When a pipe string on a drilling rig broke off down in the hole, a
call would come for Daddy to immediately come and solve the problem. He would be
gone for up to a week. When he left town, Mother would use the opportunity to spend a
day or two at Aunt Vera’s. After one of these brief visits, Mom got home and found that
she’d left the belt to her new dress on the bed at Aunt Vera’s.

Now, everyone loved Aunt Vera for her kindness and unconditional love of each and
every member of her immediate and extended family. She spent her days taking care of
grandchildren and, when possible, earning a little money working at Weiner’s, a local
dry goods store. This left her with little time for in depth housekeeping and roach
control.
Mother’s hatred of roaches sparked immediate panic that her belt would wind up
being chewed on by those nasty little brown German roaches. She was worried,
worried and I mean WORRIED, about her belt. The dress was new. It needed the belt
to look good. If the belt wound up full of tiny little roach holes, it would be useless. She
called Aunt Vera as soon as she got home and asked her to make sure that she put the
belt somewhere where her roaches could not get at it. She didn’t say the roaches; she
said her roaches.

Mother was comfortable with this kind of call and had no second thoughts, and Aunt
Vera did not appear to take exception to the fact that Mom had called with concerns
about HER roaches eating on her brand new belt. She told Aunt Vera that she would be
over as soon as possible the next day and to please, please keep the belt in a safe
place. This excessive concern did get Aunt Vera’s attention; she told mother that she
was not the first person to leave something at her house and nobody had ever said
anything about her roaches before.

The next morning, Mom called Aunt Vera to say she was fixing to get dressed and
would be over as soon as possible. She also asked if the belt had been kept safe from
roaches. Aunt Vera told her the belt was safe, to stop worrying about it, and that she
was looking forward to seeing her later in the day. As soon as Mother got dressed, she
called Aunt Vera to tell she was leaving and would come straight there.

When mother got to Aunt Vera’s, she called out hello and opened the front door. She
stepped into the darkened living room and at first was blind after the bright sunshine
outside. When her eyes adjusted this is what she saw: Aunt Vera and two of her grown
grandchildren were sitting in a rough circle around a large recliner. Each sat rigid,
backs straight, eyes alert, with their right arms raised in a fist that held a flyswatter aloft
and ready to strike. Surrounding the recliner was a two inch wide circle of white
powdered roach killer, and lying safely across the back of the recliner was mother’s belt.
Aunt Vera had a wonderful sense of humor and she used that day to even up the score
on all things roach related.