tank of oxygen

She secretly hopes a tank of oxygen is one of her gifts.
Through the years she has hollered, said and prayed, "Jesus, Mary and Joseph, grant me patience!" 1,245,187 times.
Her hands have hung diapers on pulley clotheslines, sterilized bottles, carried babies from the third-floor apartment, ironed sunsuits and proudly pushed baby buggies.
She has peeled more potatoes than six marines on K.P. duty.
Her hair has been set in steel curlers, permed, rinsed with Nestle's coloring capsules, and styled in pageboys, the poodle look and the beehive hairdo; been permed again and turned silver.
The "parlor" was where she entertained company, the "pantry" held the groceries, the "icebox" held a pint of ice cream, and the "wringer washing machine" was hers to use on Tuesday.