Extemporaneous musings, occasionally poetic, about life in its richly varied dimensions, especially as relates to history, theology, law, literature, science, by one who is an attorney, ordained minister, historian, writer, and African American.
Monday, January 5, 2015
BROODING SPAGHETTI TRANSFORMED
BROODING SPAGHETTI TRANSFORMED
As good of a cook as Mama was, bless her sweet soul, she could not touch her mother! One memorable occasion, back 'in 64 or '65, Mama cooked some spaghetti that was less than stellar. In fact, it was awful. We left it in its plastic-covered container brooding. So happened that 'Mother'--Mama's mother--came up to visit us from Mississippi around that time.
Opening the refrigerator, Mother espied that brooding spaghetti, and took it out. About this time, somebody--maybe me--whispered something about its character and taste to her. She sniffed, tasted. Smiled. And said "It just needs a little fixin', that's all. Go sit down, In few minutes, it'll be ready."
As though by magic, Mother not only transformed Mama's brooding spaghetti into a happy camper, but she also transformed her brood of hungry, grateful grandchildren into lip-smacking, plate-licking spaghetti-lovers; who kept begging for more!
Even Mama and Daddy joined in this festive rejuvenation of formerly tasteless spaghetti. We left that plastic-covered bowl barren!
Thank you Mother! If you have a grandma who could 'burn' and should you remember any childhood anecdotes. Please feel free to share them.