preference, not conviction

When I was in grade school, my mom was MY school cook.  I of course felt like I had some liberties other kids did not....but my liberties were contagious.
I always asked for an INSIDE roll.  I didn't want a corner or an outsider.  I didn't want to take a chance and get one that was a little dry or hard.  So....then everybody wanted an insider.....except a few rare kids that didn't seem to take notice.  There's always gonna be those people in the group.  How can they NOT have a preference. ??
 Well, everybody makes the world go around.  There's two crusts in a loaf of bread, and the people that prefer them are usually happy......there's plenty other pieces to please everybody else.
If there is a loaf of bread and I'm making toast, I prefer the piece right next to the crust.
I would eat the crust for a piece of toast before I'd take an outsider roll.......and I surely want a middle piece of cake or cornbread.  Now when I'm eating my Peach Clobber, I like the corners.  I'f I'm making a sandwich....I want the third or fourth piece of bread.
When I was growing up, my dad would always *do* my pork chop.  He would take the good rounded piece of meat and give it to me, he would eat the fat and the meat around the bone.  I loved my dad.  He would also slap me on the face with his bologna EVERY time he made a sandwich.  He ALWAYS emptied out a cup of water by slinging the last drop out on somebody.  Mainly me.
I hardly ever take the last drink of coffee in my cup......
As a kid, I went to DQ a lot with my Aunt Gladys.  She would stay in the car and we would bring her cone to her.  She always said, "Don't NOBODY lick the curl off of my cone."
Now, I look for a curl on a cone!


Humble wife said…
I am walking with you on memory lane. Of course, we all have opinions on our food...some may not voice it.

My kids love dark chocolate because when we would buy the mini chocolate bars in a bag, I would eat all but the dark chocolate-because I didn't like dark chocolate~and now they fight for dark chocolate! Funny considering I did this purely for selfish reasons yet manipulated the four goofs!

Your post makes me smile. My husband washes his hands before dinner at the kitchen sink-and every night says "who am I?" after the wash. This is the sign for us to duck-as he replies "John the Baptist," as he flicks the water on his hands at us!

Thanks for making me smile once again!

Rebecca said…
Wow! These thoughts could keep me sidetracked ALL DAY today! It's much to cold to do anything but sit under an afghan and think anyway....
Pen Pen said…
Love this story! And I have never been slapped with it!! sweet memories!
Anonymous said…
Since I work at a meat store, the bologna in the case reminded me of when Dad OR Granny would slap our face with it...I told the meat cutter that and she looked at me like I was crazy!! Though we all had a good laugh when I tried to explain it...not really a reason? why they did own husband and children wonder WHERE and WHY I do this to them also! HA. Love Sister Kristi

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