03 April 2017
858
R. Linda:
Last Sunday morning, the adults of the house were relaxing in the living room after breakfast. The boyos were upstairs playing and we had a lovely sunny morn to sip coffee and chat a bit. The talk was about Easter and what Tonya wanted to serve for dinner, and me getting a lecture from her on NOT to bite the ears off the Easter basket bunnies so there will be harmony in the house Easter morning, and none of the usual finger-pointing and screaming, "DA ATE THE EARS OFF MY BUNNY!!!"
I told her it was hard not to do that, it was an Easter tradition in me house when growing up that me very own Da did the same to me and me sister's bunnies, and well . . .
"Don't you do it Gabe," Tonya said pointing a finger at me.
Remember these:
Meanwhile, Mam sat silently nursing her cup of joe saying not a word but looking at me knowingly. I said I wouldn't, but I didn't promise, the reason being I can't help meself when it comes to bunny ears and for some reason unknown to meself, I get great satisfaction from chomping off those ears. Maybe because it was done to me, I think it is fine to do to me own kiddos.
"I think we should incorporate some of your beliefs into the kids," Tonya said thankfully off the subject of chocolate bunny ears.
"Like what?" I asked surprised at the sudden change in subject.
"Well, they should give something up for lent. Didn't you do that when you were young? Like candy or doing something you liked to do?"
"Uh yup," I answered thinking back on the Lenten season and how long I used to think it was as a kid. I remember sneaking candy bars at the local newspaper store or playing Pack Man at a friend's house, out of the sight of me Mam.
"You did that every year growing up right?" Tonya queried. "It made you better to honour the Lord."
"Uh yup," I said not really thinking about it.
"Nooo, nooo he did not." Mam crooned. "He and Sheila were little sneaks. Dey taught I dint no dey'd goo ta dere friends hoouse and do wot dey were given' oop. It got so bad dat as teenagers I let em' off da hook. Ye remembah when dat wuz?"
"Oh yeah I do," I said, the whole unorthodox scene dawning on me. "It was when that very straight-laced Catholic couple you were friends with came for tea at Lent. You had little cakes you served and you had Sheila and I dressed up like it was Easter to come greet them."
"Every year dey came and every year I'd dress me bairns up to da nines sos dey could see how mooch dey had grown inta proper gent and lady," Mam interjected to Tonya.
"I think I had just turned 13 and I remember I didn't want to meet them, but Sheila reminded me we'd get a teacake out of it. I hated getting dressed up to be looked over by those two old fogeys." I complained.
"Ah, but ye got a cake outer it, dint ya?" Mam said and then turning to Tonya she continued. "Da coople wuz surprised I'd let da two haf a teacake each at lent. She asked dem if dey had given oop sweets and I knew dey would say no, dey dint haf ta give up nuthin' and den I'd git lectured fur not being a better Catlick parent, so I said dey had given up soomthin' else instead."
I remembered instantly what she was talking about. I remember it well like it was yesterday. There Sheila and I were, genteelly munching our cakes when the woman disapproving quite obviously to our eating something sweet, had asked the dreaded question as to what we gave up for lent. I was about to say we gave up nothing and I am sure me sissy would have said the same, and not being smart enough to know better, me Mam knowing that pipped up before we could utter a word of truth.
"Dey haf given oop fish," Mam said loudly.
There was silence and we stopped chewing long enough to know we better chew faster and get out of there. So while we were choking down the cake the woman regained her composure and blurted out in question, "Fish?"
"Ooh ay, dey be big fish eaters dose two," Mam said proudly.
I near about choked on me cake as did me father on the coffee he had just swallowed. He was wise enough to say nothing to contradict his wife.
"Dey luv, luv, luv fish. Any kind o' fish. Plaice, pollock, coley, ray, huss. It be fish night every night beside Fridays if dey had dere way o' it." She said with smug satisfaction.
I nodded me head vigorously, happy me mouth was full and I didn't have to say anything. Me Da told us we could go along which we did as quickly and as courteously as possible.
"Oh, dey were soomtin' dat coople. Dey were strict Catlicks an if yer dint do tings by da boook ya were a sinner." She reminisced.
The eldest and middle kiddo were hiding behind the couch playing sneaky Pete and heard all this. I don't have to tell you they were all about giving up fish (which they won't eat) for this thing called lent. Well, there was a discussion I can tell ya that much of protesting kiddos and unrelenting adults. A compromise was reached in which we will celebrate Shrove Tuesday and then there will be no PANCAKES until after Easter. Uh yup, I can live with that as well since no one said anything about doughnuts.
Gabe
Copyright © 2017 All rights reserved
858
R. Linda:
Last Sunday morning, the adults of the house were relaxing in the living room after breakfast. The boyos were upstairs playing and we had a lovely sunny morn to sip coffee and chat a bit. The talk was about Easter and what Tonya wanted to serve for dinner, and me getting a lecture from her on NOT to bite the ears off the Easter basket bunnies so there will be harmony in the house Easter morning, and none of the usual finger-pointing and screaming, "DA ATE THE EARS OFF MY BUNNY!!!"
I told her it was hard not to do that, it was an Easter tradition in me house when growing up that me very own Da did the same to me and me sister's bunnies, and well . . .
"Don't you do it Gabe," Tonya said pointing a finger at me.
Remember these:
 |
| Guido's rabbit |
 |
| O'Hare's bunny |
"I think we should incorporate some of your beliefs into the kids," Tonya said thankfully off the subject of chocolate bunny ears.
"Like what?" I asked surprised at the sudden change in subject.
"Well, they should give something up for lent. Didn't you do that when you were young? Like candy or doing something you liked to do?"
"Uh yup," I answered thinking back on the Lenten season and how long I used to think it was as a kid. I remember sneaking candy bars at the local newspaper store or playing Pack Man at a friend's house, out of the sight of me Mam.
"You did that every year growing up right?" Tonya queried. "It made you better to honour the Lord."
"Uh yup," I said not really thinking about it.
"Nooo, nooo he did not." Mam crooned. "He and Sheila were little sneaks. Dey taught I dint no dey'd goo ta dere friends hoouse and do wot dey were given' oop. It got so bad dat as teenagers I let em' off da hook. Ye remembah when dat wuz?"
"Oh yeah I do," I said, the whole unorthodox scene dawning on me. "It was when that very straight-laced Catholic couple you were friends with came for tea at Lent. You had little cakes you served and you had Sheila and I dressed up like it was Easter to come greet them."
"Every year dey came and every year I'd dress me bairns up to da nines sos dey could see how mooch dey had grown inta proper gent and lady," Mam interjected to Tonya.
"I think I had just turned 13 and I remember I didn't want to meet them, but Sheila reminded me we'd get a teacake out of it. I hated getting dressed up to be looked over by those two old fogeys." I complained.
"Ah, but ye got a cake outer it, dint ya?" Mam said and then turning to Tonya she continued. "Da coople wuz surprised I'd let da two haf a teacake each at lent. She asked dem if dey had given oop sweets and I knew dey would say no, dey dint haf ta give up nuthin' and den I'd git lectured fur not being a better Catlick parent, so I said dey had given up soomthin' else instead."
I remembered instantly what she was talking about. I remember it well like it was yesterday. There Sheila and I were, genteelly munching our cakes when the woman disapproving quite obviously to our eating something sweet, had asked the dreaded question as to what we gave up for lent. I was about to say we gave up nothing and I am sure me sissy would have said the same, and not being smart enough to know better, me Mam knowing that pipped up before we could utter a word of truth.
"Dey haf given oop fish," Mam said loudly.
There was silence and we stopped chewing long enough to know we better chew faster and get out of there. So while we were choking down the cake the woman regained her composure and blurted out in question, "Fish?"
"Ooh ay, dey be big fish eaters dose two," Mam said proudly.
I near about choked on me cake as did me father on the coffee he had just swallowed. He was wise enough to say nothing to contradict his wife.
"Dey luv, luv, luv fish. Any kind o' fish. Plaice, pollock, coley, ray, huss. It be fish night every night beside Fridays if dey had dere way o' it." She said with smug satisfaction.
I nodded me head vigorously, happy me mouth was full and I didn't have to say anything. Me Da told us we could go along which we did as quickly and as courteously as possible.
"Oh, dey were soomtin' dat coople. Dey were strict Catlicks an if yer dint do tings by da boook ya were a sinner." She reminisced.
The eldest and middle kiddo were hiding behind the couch playing sneaky Pete and heard all this. I don't have to tell you they were all about giving up fish (which they won't eat) for this thing called lent. Well, there was a discussion I can tell ya that much of protesting kiddos and unrelenting adults. A compromise was reached in which we will celebrate Shrove Tuesday and then there will be no PANCAKES until after Easter. Uh yup, I can live with that as well since no one said anything about doughnuts.
Gabe
Copyright © 2017 All rights reserved
4 comments:
LMAO when did you get to be a bunny ear eater!!? I remember before you had kids, you got all pissy when I wanted to send you an earless bunny ! When did you start liking bunny ears? Personally, I think it's funny BUT the thought of someones spit on my bunny is YUCK!
What can I say? I took up the family tradition. It be relative spit, LOL
When you said fish I almost spat my tea out. Lmao. I love when you write your mams conversations. So well done I can hear her!
Now you see where I get it from.
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