buckytom
Chef Extraordinaire
our's never closed.
mom had breakfast on the table at 7am, your brown bag lunch ready to go by 7:30am, and dinner on the table at 6 sharp! and you'd better be clean, dressed (no sleeveless shirts, and no odd, dirty, or ripped pants or shorts), and you'd better be on time. at the end of dinner, we'd have to excuse ourselves from the table politely. dad always waited you out, eating slower than you could. then we'd rush to my parents bedroom , elbowing each other out of the way to see who could get mom and dad's vitamins, so we could be the one to give it to them.
of course we pushed the envelope with 6pm, as kids will do, but mom still delivered, literally, after dad said you're out of luck if you missed it. then dad tried to sneak you a plate too.
we'd snack around 8pm, on everything from cheese and fruit, to pudding and jello, to peanuts and popcorn, to ice cream and beyond. while we sat around the living room watching tv, mom served dad, then called us kids into the kitchen to "come and get it!"
finally, on one of dad's few nights off, he'd indulge in a bottle of wine or 2 after we all went to sleep, and he'd rummage around the kitchen, cooking up a storm. he'd leave a pile of burned pots and pans soaking in the sink, which mom cleaned by the time we awoke.
my mom never complained that loudly, because she felt it was a small thing to have to put up with for a really good man; one who is fiercely loyal, hardworking, self sacrificing, thrifty, affectionate, and loving.
they worked as a team, never trying to compare or measure, just giving of themselves completely.
mom had breakfast on the table at 7am, your brown bag lunch ready to go by 7:30am, and dinner on the table at 6 sharp! and you'd better be clean, dressed (no sleeveless shirts, and no odd, dirty, or ripped pants or shorts), and you'd better be on time. at the end of dinner, we'd have to excuse ourselves from the table politely. dad always waited you out, eating slower than you could. then we'd rush to my parents bedroom , elbowing each other out of the way to see who could get mom and dad's vitamins, so we could be the one to give it to them.
of course we pushed the envelope with 6pm, as kids will do, but mom still delivered, literally, after dad said you're out of luck if you missed it. then dad tried to sneak you a plate too.
we'd snack around 8pm, on everything from cheese and fruit, to pudding and jello, to peanuts and popcorn, to ice cream and beyond. while we sat around the living room watching tv, mom served dad, then called us kids into the kitchen to "come and get it!"
finally, on one of dad's few nights off, he'd indulge in a bottle of wine or 2 after we all went to sleep, and he'd rummage around the kitchen, cooking up a storm. he'd leave a pile of burned pots and pans soaking in the sink, which mom cleaned by the time we awoke.
my mom never complained that loudly, because she felt it was a small thing to have to put up with for a really good man; one who is fiercely loyal, hardworking, self sacrificing, thrifty, affectionate, and loving.
they worked as a team, never trying to compare or measure, just giving of themselves completely.