Saturday, March 21, 2009

Glass Bones

I had a lovely childhood. I am an only child and grew up in a home with a mom and a dad who loved me very much. I had Friday afternoon parties once a week with my mom, my dad and I would go out for Saturday morning breakfast or play basketball in the backyard. I had a charmed childhood filled with stories read aloud, homemade cookies, and sit down dinners with minimal amounts of television. Life was good, and I hope one day my children will be able to look back on their growing-up years with as much happiness.

All that said so that I might be allowed to tell my favorite Monroe family story. My mom cringes when I tell this story, and now she shames me into keeping quiet, but I think it is fantastic and want the world to know. Where my mom sees danger and stupidity, I see frugality, a spirit of adventure and friends (yes, my parents are my friends) finding humor in something we knew, even then, was ridiculous.

And this is the story, my FAVORITE story, of my childhood

My mom made an amazing casserole. It was spicy and rich, meaty, with noodles and crunchy water chestnuts--really delicious. She didn't make it often because it was an all day event to prepare the casserole for baking. But when she did make it, Dad and I would think about it all day at our places of work and school, and we couldn't wait to get home. Dinner would begin early and end late--all three of us stuffing ourselves silly.

Well, the day began like any other Best Casserole Day. Dad and I walked out of the house drooling, very much looking forward to the dinner of the day. Mom got to cooking. Apparently, the recipe calls for the cook to put some of the heated ingredients to the side until one can mix all of the ingredients together before baking. Mom was at that step--putting the heated ingredients to the side when something bad happened. She used a glass bowl to hold her heated ingredients. Well, apparently, these ingredients were mighty hot and the bowl was not, so the bowl shattered. Meat, noodles, glass shards all over the counters and wood floor. And I ask you, What Would You Do? I remind you that this was the Best Casserole Evah.

So, Mom did the only thing she could do. She picked up the meat and noodles, picked out as much of the glass as she could see and continued baking.

Skip on to dinner. Now, Mom explained what happened to Dad and me. She was a little concerned about eating it at this point. We weren't. Are you kidding me? Please. We've eaten a whole catfish before. It would be just like that. And it was. We dug right in--slowly this time--very slowly, actually. Especially after we discovered some crazy long glass shards, but it was such a fun meal. We laughed the entire time, and the casserole was just as good. We felt just like a Saturday Night Live sketch.

We didn't finish the casserole that night since it was a serving for 12, but we did finish it eventually. No one died. No food was wasted. We appreciated every bite of that casserole. And I have never had a better meal.

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