Bertha and Tillie Forever


Bertha and Tillie Forever

Two Cheeks Are Better Than One!

Bertha and Tillie Forever

I bet you think that I am referring to your face or my face. No, those are not the cheeks I am talking about. Tillie and I often got sick at the same time. After all, we were sisters, shared a room, and sometimes also shared glasses or spoons. So, what happened next will definitely make you double over laughing.

Tillie came down with a high fever and I had a low-grade temperature. We both felt lousy and could barely stand up. Both of us decided that we were well enough to go to school, though, because we wanted to avoid the dreaded doctor!

Our doctor, Ned Ballot—his real name—was amazing in more ways than one. First of all, he made house calls. Try getting any doctor to do that today. Second, he worked out a deal with my grandfather to get his suits dry cleaned and tailored for free in place of us paying for medical care.

Dr. Ballot loved my grandfather and my mom. All my mother had to do was call and he would come over, too fast some- times. Tillie and I would never complain about being sick because we knew what the final pain and outcome would be.

So, the two of us had a plan. We got dressed, got our school bags, and left for school. Little did we know that my mom, Rosie, was standing outside of the door ready for the two of us who were trying to bust out before the doctor arrived. We pleaded and begged, if you can believe that, to go to school, and said that we were just fine.

The fact that Tillie had a temperature of 103 and mine was 101 did not seem to faze either one of us, nor did the fact that we really just wanted to sleep for about a year.

But, dear Rosie marched us back up six flights, and then the real terror began as Dr. Ballot and his big black bag with his arsenal of meds arrived.

Now, we loved our mother, but sometimes she overdid things and still does to this day. We both had the flu…big deal. Why not prescribe a delicious pill (chewable of course, and cherry flavored) or a liquid to deal with this problem? No, we each would receive the double whammy…shots in both sides of our butts, and you got it—two cheeks are better than one to make sure the flu goes away. Of course, neither one of us would be able to sit for a long time.

Did you ever see the length of a needle filled with penicillin?

So, what we did should not surprise you. When my mom and the doctor went out of the room to talk for one minute, Tillie hid under the bed and I hid in the closet; great plan. We both thought they would never find us.

The end result: Doughnuts are not just for eating. My mom always wins in the end…and our ends. You figure it out.

Love: Bertha

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