“did you melt butter to use to make the toast?”
“well, yes,” she says. “i can’t get the stick butter to spread.”
me? i just whack a slice off and lay it on the bread, content to let the oven do the melting, and at this moment, i realize that the food mother prepares tastes sooooo good because she takes time to do the little things like melting the butter for making toast.
and i think that’s a significant difference worth noting: my mother cooks with love.
over breakfast, mother tells my teenage nephew who’s visiting for a few days, “jeanne took a picture of butter so she could write about how ridiculous i am to melt butter before making toast.”
and with that, my friends, we see once again that i choose my words and actions, and she chooses her interpretation of them.
and vice versa.
silly mothers. families are like that, always adding in years and years of baggage to their interpretation of the little things. you can’t help it. you can find the humor in it. and you have. i love this, what you are doing here, love it.
Isn’t this something? The way other people can interpret what we do – and there’s not much we can do about it (unless we want to spend the days explaining – and who’s got time?) — and how, of course, (like you noted by the ending line: “and vice versa.”, we probably do the same damn thing.
It amazes me sometimes that any relationships keep on relationshipping – lol – guess that’s got to do with LOVE – which is so evident in your posts, Jeanne!!