I gotta smile whenever I see that Campbell's Chunky Soup commercial about putting the soup over rice for a meal. My mom always looking to stretch a dollar came up with that very meal back in the mid/late 70's. Rice or potatoes ... if she could cover those two staples with something to feed the family she would.
Dad and eggs. He covered his eggs with so much pepper you could barely see the white (always over easy) by the time he was finished seasoning them. I could never understand that ... I remember one time while peppering those eggs my youngest brother got a sneezing fit so bad from the pepper that was in the air.
So many stories, and ones that I'll never know. Both are long gone. My dad was in the second world war and my mom was a war bride. My dad was 49 and my mom was 42 when I was born. My brother and sisters had already left home. I had to have been a mistake. What's bad is I can think of 200 bad stories for 1 good story. It wasn't a good childhood.
Born old, grow young? Carried much when we were young? That's so true. I still feel 19. It's hard to see two teenage kids walking by and realize that they're mine. I feel more like they're friends.
My mom one time made gravy, then put some in the dogs food, stirred it, put the spoon back the gravy skillet (my daughter & I saw, but my husband, whom I was mad at didn't) and served it.
My dad knocked out my first tooth when I was five. Not an accident.
I'm sure they don't know about EP. Does that count?