I went over to have lunch with my Mom after my morning job today. When I arrived, she was desperately scraping inside an extremely empty jar of peanut butter, trying to get enough fragments gathered to make a sandwich out of. There was a new jar in the cupboard.
I know that my parents are children of the depression and of WWII rationing but surely there is a limit?
My Mom and I had fun conniving against my Dad. I washed out the empty jar thoroughly so that he wouldn't be tempted to retrieve it from the blue box.
And of such moments are happy little memories made.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment