Wednesday, February 22, 2012

This morning Ezra and I took a trip back in time, as usual.

I look into his face and it takes me back to third grade and 5 younger siblings, at that age and how little of the concerns and cares look to be on his face. He wanted more sugar on his Cream of Wheat and that started my story telling of my sugar consumption. I "stole" all of the sugar cubes in the cabinet that were for the Rosarian luncheon. It was me. I had eaten them a little at a time, everytime, I hid in the cabinet to be alone or for "hide and go-seek". Little squares of sugar were the topic. I remembered out loud to him, as I sprinkled more sugar on his already sweetened breakfast. I remembered Grandma and Auntie, coming to our kitchen and letting me stir the gravy and offering tastes of this and that. "No, thank you!" No, Thank you, I was trained to say that and could say nothing else to them. I felt like Gram and Auntie were here with us as we reminisced. One day, Uncle Pat came with a brown paper bag and some egg custard for me. That started me eating some solid foods, more and trying things outside the box. I declare, Gram and Auntie must have prayed for a remedy to my hunger strike. The egg custard did it. That was the end of my eating the curtains and other pica problems and growing in health. Egg custard and prayer.