Last night when I was washing dishes I started thinking about my mom. You should know my mom. She’s really something.
I had made a peach crisp. It all started a few days earlier when I was at Costco and peaches reached and grabbed me with their perfect ripe scent and I bought a box. Last night I made a peach crisp with what was left of the box.
I blanched the peaches like my mom taught me to do years ago in her big kitchen on a hot August afternoon when we were canning peaches. I know my mom is not the only one privy to this peach peeling trick, it’s pretty much common knowledge, but it’s a swell trick and I’m glad my mom taught me.
It’s staggering to consider all that my mom taught me.
Staggering.
Earlier when we were leaving the pool, Braeden said, “Why do we have to work every day? We are the only ones that have to work during the summer. No one else does.”
For one thing, I don’t think that’s true.
The only thing else I could do is empathize. I told my children that I used to feel the exact same way. My mom made us work and work and I hated it.
And now I do the same thing.
Emma said, “Well, just stop doing it.”
It’s not that easy.
And I hope someday Emma will tell her whining children the same thing.
3 comments:
We were all out weeding the flower beds together and I said, "I just love it when we're all working together." My children groaned and I remember Mama saying the exact same thing and thinking there wasn't much to love in that. What can you do? Marianne
Tell Breaden and Emma that they aren't the only ones that have to work in the summer. We do!
Hi Thelma. I love the title of this post! I love how secure you are with how you are raising your family. It's so fun for me to read of your interactions. You make us all wanna home school... only you'd blow us out of the water.
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