Make Yourself Comfortable

Northern Arapahoe Tribe

Recently I've received a few comments from visiting Indians at Stan's house that they were struck to see a white woman sitting around "as if she belonged" and looking so comfortable. More often than not, they drive up what I imagine they see is a pale woman in a skirt and a fitted shirt, sitting on a bench on the front porch of a mobile home, wedged between two very large Indians looking even larger because they are wearing oversized, XXL athletic clothing (generally all black), they are smoking, dogs are at our feet, babies crawling dangerously close to the edge of the deck. She is probably bouncing a tiny Indian baby on her knee while shooing off an older Indian child who could win awards with his "Little Brother Mental Torture" skills.

This morning I received a phone call and was asked where I was and what I was doing. My reply: I'm just out lounging on top of the old washing machine out behind the house in the shade. Their reply: "Daaaamn, you have definitely assimilated!" I have to admit, until yesterday I couldn't understand the draw to the washing machine/dryer loungers out back that the kids crawl all over all the time. But my tush was quite comfortable on the cold metal, and the slanted part where the dials are was the perfect incline for my back and elbow. Maybe I should sew some cushions for them because they certainly will never be dragged to the dump. Next thing we know I'll be sleeping on the living room floor without blankets, playing under the deck for entertainment, swimming in the ditch, and those liver and cheese sandwiches on wonder bread will start looking tasty.