Stuck in a Soda Pop Bottle

When I was young, soda pop only came in bottles. One day, I thought it would be clever to show off to my siblings a trick of how I could suck my upper lip inside the bottle top of my Mr. Pibb, then let go of the bottle and stretch my arms out, holding the entire weight of that Mr. Pibb with nothing but the amazing strength of my upper lip. “Ta da!” I managed to shout with just my teeth and my lower lip. "What a marvelous accomplishment,” I gleefully thought to myself. “This will give me bragging rights over my poor, lesser-accomplished siblings!” But my bravado came to a shrieking halt when when I suddenly realized—I was stuck!

To this day, I still can feel the pain as my siblings all grabbed onto that Mr. Pibb and began to pull and pull, in an attempt to free my upper lip. I became panicked, so scared they were gonna have to bust the bottle to break me free (cutting my face in the process); when suddenly, after my upper lip had been stretched to the absolute limit of human endurance; I tumbled backward, onto the ground one way, while my siblings all fell down in the opposite direction; spilling Mr. Pibb everywhere. "Free at last! Free at last! Thank God Almighty, I’m free at last!” I prayed to our Heavenly Father, in sincere appreciation.

My lip was very sore and extremely red and swollen for an entire week! Yet, there was no getting out of going to school. (Children rarely got sympathy for foolish injuries, back in those days.) I spent the next week at school holding my hand over my mouth, to cover the huge, pointed protrusion that used to be my upper lip. Mrs. Gray was in the middle of a lesson about how it was time our class learned what deodorant was and how to use it. (I suspect since there was no air conditioning in schools back then, all the teachers had conspired together that it was time to take matters into their own hands.) How I dreaded the inevitable time when the teacher would call on me and I’d have to break my silence and reveal my torpedo lip… It was inevitable because back then, if you didn’t raise your hand, it was a SURE way to get called on anyway, for an answer.

“Miss Bowen?” Mrs. Gray targeted me like an arrow finding its bullseye. Now, in my Southern school back in those days, when a teacher called on you, the appropriate response was to stand up and say: “Sir” if it was a man, or: “Ma’am” if the teacher was a woman. Ever so slowly I got out of my chair and stood by my desk, dropping my pencil on purpose and picking it up in slow motion, all the while with one hand still covering my mouth. I was hoping Mrs. Gray would lose patience and call on someone else; but no such luck. Because I hesitated, the teacher repeated, “Miss Bowen? What are the different types of deodorant we could use? Do you have the answer?” Y’all, I couldn’t make the “P” or “M” sounds, but I couldn’t stall any longer… I tried my best to answer, “Yes, Ma’am” but, it came out :“Yes, Fat”. **Roaring laughter** As Mrs. Gray pushed me out the door, I tried yelling out the answer: “Fray (spray) and Woll-on (roll-on)!” But, we were already headed toward Principal Leary’s office.

Later that night, after Mama read the note from Principal Leary explaining why I got a paddling; and after Daddy had gone into the other room (I suspect so he could chuckle in private); Mama sat us down to warn me and my siblings about OTHER idiotic actions which she said she had PREVIOUSLY assumed we would have the common sense not to do. One sister shot me a warning glance to silently communicate: "Thanks a lot"; while another sister stuck her tongue out at me while Mama wasn't looking. Speaking of tongues, when Mama got to the part of how we were not to EVER stick our tongue onto the metal ice tray or onto a metal fence-post or anything metal in the winter; she was glaring straight at ME.

(After that, I was always extremely careful how I drank from a soda pop bottle. When they later introduced soda pop in a can, you can betcha I switched! Those soda pop bottles oughta be banned.)