Friday, 20 March 2009
By James J Henry Jr
Most kids have fond memories of going to GrandMom's House. I certainly did except for one time, and even that was fun in retrospect.
Most grandparents are more forgiving than parents, and my GrandMom was certainly that in all areas.
For example, to give you an idea of her housekeeping practices, we kids one time while up in the city, as we called Philadelphia, were having some kind of family dinner celebration and were seated out in the kitchen while the adults were in the dining room. We got into a spaghetti fight and were having lots of fun, as I learned how to pack a strand of spaghetti into a spoon and launch it at another kid who, in this case, happened to be my Aunt Sissy.
Even though genetically my aunt, she was only a year older therefore, technically, still a kid but also more agile. She ducked at just the right time and the spaghetti went over her head and over the refrigerator, hanging itself on the doorbell behind.
When the adults discovered what havoc we had brought fourth, we were severely disciplined. I was identified as the ring leader. Well, for many years after that, the renegade strand of spaghetti was still hanging around the doorbell where I had shot it.
Hell, it might still be there for all I know.
[EDITORIAL NOTE: All elders, 50 and older, are welcome to submit stories for this blog. Instructions are here.]