looking through me

Tag: family

October 8, 2014

Saturday mornings

Saturday mornings were Dad’s.

He was the master pancake maker. He varied the recipe over the years, but it had little to do with taste and everything to do with presentation.

Dad was an artist trapped in a businessman’s body. But on Saturday mornings it was all about the art. Pancake batter was his paint. Whatever we dreamed up he poured out in batter . . . backwards. Then he flipped it to perfection and plated it.

Having a friend spend the night on a Friday night was the best. He would start with her name. Printed or in cursive. And then he would move on to more elaborate designs.

Cartoons may have been playing in the family room, but the show was in the kitchen.

 

This post is part of the 31 Days: Family series. Read the beginning, and see a full index of posts, here.

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October 7, 2014

Grandma’s face

I didn’t realize Grandma wasn’t like all the other grandmas.

Didn’t every grandma keep a pair of fake, bloodshot eyes on hand to pop in before opening the front door?

Didn’t every grandma hide her rubber chicken in random places around the house? Oh, not every grandma had a rubber chicken?

I thought they did. Mine did.

As a child I begged her to teach me how to make her face. She taught me how to use my finger to dry my teeth and roll my upper lip under, how to pinch and keep my nose closed, and how to cross my eyes. That was the face she and another secretary perfected in the church office where they worked. Wouldn’t every pastor appreciate being greeted by those faces?

I practiced and practiced the face. My brother—the middle child—had her timing and ability to pull a prank, but I had her face.

This post is part of the 31 Days: Family series. Read the beginning, and see a full index of posts, here.

 

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