You gunna finish that?

In Family, food, grandparents on November 9, 2012 at 12:05 PM

As a kid growing up, we didn’t much. Momma babysat or had made things for the neighbours while dad worked to bring home a paycheck. Both of their efforts mad sure food was on the table, if nothing else. My parents where brought up that if you took the food, you ate the food. Momma, being a Southern lady, and daddy being a “Damn Yankee”, they had to eat what was on their plate. My dad’s dad always told him “I love you guys enough to make a paycheck; your mother loves you enough to cook dinner; shouldn’t you love us enough to eat it?” That stuck me. Even now, it’s on my plate, it’s in my gut.

My uncles where raised the same way, and when one adopted a little boy, he was brought up in the same manner. One day, we all went over to my grandma’s house to have a big family dinner and visit with the aforementioned uncle visiting from Washington at the time. We finished our dinner, and the boy, I believe round 8 years of age, wanted more macaroni salad. My uncle had him for a few years, and he knew by now the montra “you take it, you eat it”. He piled his plate high with the macaroni salad, ate some, and piled more on. My uncle told him he was to finish every bite. Well, about half way through, he says “Dad, I’m full.” My uncle looks over to him, and says “Son, so is your plate. When it’s empty, you can leave.” the little boy looks down….”Daddy, I can’t eat anymore.” My grandma says, “son, finish it; you wanted it, you can finish it.” He goes to the bathroom, and thinks that if he spends enough time in there, we’ll forget about the food…he was wrong. He was finally able to go to bed around midnight, his plate was clean enough then…

As a lad, I tried the same thing. My grandmother made me eat every bite, as did my mother and father. I felt better knowing I had food cooked with love in my stomach. My cousins, on the other hand, lived with my grandmother for a spell, and they never learned. My cousin would pour the syrup over his pancakes, eat tem and leave a plate full of syrup. My grandmother would drop fresh from the griddle cakes on to his plate and tell him “We ain’t wastin’ ‘at syrup, now, are we?” My cousin had this look of both amusement, and shock on his face, but he knew better than to waste the food grandma had cooked. Not to mention, she tought all of our mothers how to cook, so we knew the food was great!

So, kids, if your parents love you enough to cook for you, shouldn’t you love em enough to eat it?

  1. Your family must be veritable garbage disposals!

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