As I’m sitting here after dinner craving dessert, I’m going with the Good Humor truck.
No sound was more iconic to the summers of my childhood. We kept a bowl of change on the kitchen counter in anticipation of those glorious chimes. Doors would slam all over the neighborhood as every kid within hearing distance would run to the corner before it drove away.
Advice. Everyone seems to have it, but no one seems to want it.
My late father always used to tell me not to take any wooden nickels, which seems ridiculous these days… but I suppose you could substitute ‘cryptocurrency’ for ‘nickel’ and call it good.
While I make a habit of never offering unsolicited advice, being happily married for 38 years people often ask for our secret and want advice on staying together.
Love, respect, and understanding. All important, but I usually default back to compromise and choosing carefully. Chemical attraction and lust fade, trust me on this. If you don’t have anything deeper to hold you together you won’t be searching for the traditional 40th anniversary gift. ( Ruby! Let’s hear it for hanging in there.)
I constantly hear people say you have to have things in common with your spouse to cement a relationship, but that couldn’t be farther from the truth for us… we’re very different people. But we find common ground in the type of life we want to lead and where we want to live it. That trumps his preference for television over my love of reading any day, even if it means a John Wayne marathon now and then.
My husband and I met and were married 6 days later. Guess I chose correctly. ❣️
If you know me, you know I’m one of the least religious people you’re ever apt to meet, but my late mother was forced to memorize that poem as a child and recited it ad nauseam during my formative years. Why it has remained firmly implanted in my brain I have no idea… but there it is. Uselessly taking up space.
So how about you? What useless thing are you storing in your grey matter…
I have a shelf full of cookbooks I never use. Some are low calorie, some are comfort food, some are Italian, some are French. None of them however, are from Sing Sing.
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With all due respect to Goose, I think I’ll pass.
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Do I need to play Bingo with various shaped feces?
I do not. Nope. Not ever.
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If someone gave me this? I would probably do just the opposite and lob it at their head.
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Now where was this when I was young? Talk about missed opportunities. Damn.
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And finally, something for Mark, aka Swinged Cat, aka Madtown Migrant, aka Mark My Words…. who, for some unfathomable reason likes to eat this canned abomination. Throw them with abandon my friend. Personally, I’d rather eat the dice.
This is an easy one for me. Calves liver with onions. My parents were fans, but I’ve been known to run screaming from the room at the mere sight of it. Basically any organ meat will elicit a similar reaction, but my mother cooked this on a regular basis so I had lots of practice avoiding it.
Liver tonight? Gee mom, I can’t. Softball practice.
Liver? Sorry mom, art club meeting.
Dessicated cow organs? I’d love to… but the circus is in town and they need a new elephant handler.
Any excuse would do. But she got wise after a while and decided to force me to eat it one night. Silly woman, thinking she could out stubborn 10 year old me.
She served dinner… I ate the potatoes and vegetables and left the liver untouched. She told me I would eat it. I told her I would not. She said I couldn’t get up from the table until it was gone. I said no problem and settled in for the night. If I wouldn’t eat it freshly cooked and hot did she really think I’d eat it cold and congealed?
The war of wills had begun, but after an hour and a half my father… ever the peacemaker…. let our notorious food stealing beagle in the back door and I ( accidentally, of course ) dropped my plate on the floor.
Bye bye liver.
My mother lost that battle and never tried to force me to eat it again. She did continue to serve it though.
🤢
How about you? What meal haunted your childhood dinner table…
River's world..... 