‎"...a little 'trouty', but quite good" ~ Eve Kendall, North By Northwest

Friday, February 20, 2009

the sins of the father

Lucy was just rifling through the 17 kinds of pickles in the fridge, not finding what she was looking for. Thinking she was being Awfully Darn Picky, I asked what it was she needed.

"I want the ones you made," she said.

And this made me realize two things.

1) I have a pickle problem (I have a feeling this observation will score me some comments)
2) I have the children my mother wanted

Mom was always making homemade versions of the things we liked. Turkey soup comes to mind. My sister and I begged her to please just feed us Campbell's when she did this. There was pretty much nothing mom could make that we didn't complain about and request the processed versions of. Sorry, mom. I'm sure the soup was delicious.

The other day at lunch, Lucy told me that she and daddy had noticed that our ketchup was two years out of date. And then she said, "can we make our own? With our tomatoes? I bet we'd eat it faster."

I cannot in polite words describe what my sister and I would have done if mom tried to foist homemade ketchup on us.

Also, my kids have an appreciation for symphony and opera, something my mom prayed for nightly when we were kids. The difference here is that I go to symphony and opera to get away from my children. And they beg to go with me. And then they sit quietly, making me squirm with the horror of my own misbehavior at ages more advanced than theirs. They are making me look bad.

It could only possibly be worse if both kids pick up instruments and then beg us to learn an instrument so we can play quartets after dinner. At which point my mother will disown me and adopt my children.

And play chamber music. While eating homemade turkey soup.

Eventually you get what you pray for.

edited to add: Lucy just asked if she could please have the heel piece of bread. There is something wrong with that child.


Dana's Brain said...

Maybe we can trade a room for a jar of pickles!

Sounds like you have wonderful children, although I'm not so sure about that ketchup idea.

Laggin said...

I love me some pickles. Homemade. Or not.

P.S. They are just being perfect to irritate you. As soon as you ask for a little get-with-the-program-ness out of them, they will become less perfect.

Steam Me Up, Kid said...

It's the same with my family. It seems like each generation rejects the things put before them, so in the end what you have is just a back and forth process with each successive generation.

Also, I had to re-read your post because I thought you wrote "I have the chicken my mother wanted." Like you were holding on to some chicken she wanted to use for soup.

Kristin said...

I want some of the pickles you made, too. I'm all out of mine, and it makes me sad. The store ones SO do not measure up.

I can trade you for a jar of homemade ketchup. Yes, seriously.

Rose Brier Studio said...

Someone once told me you get exactly the kids you're s'posed to get -- you know, the ones who will make you grow. Who knew being a mom was going to push me to grow and change so much?

Susan said...

Okay, so some of you I can email directly, and some I can't. After two years, I'm still new at this.

Laggin - Pickles rock. And yes, my kids are making a career of putting me off my guard. I've been warned. (I had to write that three times because it sounded like I was talking about pickles when I meant the kids, and vice versa).

Steam Me Up - It's true! And I did the same thing, about chicken vs. children. Let's hope my mom doesn't have soup designs on my chicken (or my children).

Marilee - I have heard that, too. You got some great ones, so you must have already been perfect.

TwoBusy said...

My wife used to be a pickle fanatic. Perhaps not up to your standards, but still: fanatic. Then we got married, and her passion for the pickle faded away.

(Why is everyone looking at me like that?)

Lisa said...

Your kids sound fantastic. My grandmother used to make several kinds of pickles that I loved. My favorites, the idea of which makes me cringe now, were thick-cut rounds in heavy sugar syrup. With green food coloring, I think, because they were really dark green. My mom still occasionally makes her dill or bread and butter pickles, and I should get the recipes. I really do love them more than store pickles.

JAbel said...

All I can think of now is the Andy Griffith episode where Aunt Bee made some truly awful pickles and they all pretended to like them so she made more.While I've never had homemade Ketchup I have had homemade Catsup.I like the store bought brand better.

Bella said...

I think our kids were switched at birth...really. you are much better equipped to handle 3 spunky girls. (you were one!) i on the other hand just want someone to appreciate my cooking and let me alone to do it.

Anonymous said...

In celebration of my 18th B'Day (a million moons ago) and love of pickles, my friend gave me a pop-up book, "The Adventures of Super Pickle". She also put the names of our friends under the different pictures of the pickle people. Still have the book and still love my pickles!


Greg said...

Let's hear some more of this "pickle problem."

And may we lonecay those idskay?