 |
| Daddy, my sister and me |
Like most familys in the 50's we had just one car and for a time we did not have a car at all because my Dad drove a company truck. My mother would do her shopping on Saturday morning when the car was available. She would take my younger sister with her but my Dad would say, "Ranae stays at home to help me around the house". Looking back, at 7 or 8 years old, how much help was I? But I felt very Important, proud and thought I was big help. Dad would be working around our house repairing, doing a little maintenance etc in our apartment or the one below. I followed proudly right behind him carrying his screwdriver or plunger or whatever so I could hand it to him at the appropriate time. When Mom was home he was the disciplinarian as in "wait till your father comes home, you tell him what you did". He could on those occasions be pretty harsh. On Saturday mornings though it was different. He would call me "firstborn" and we would laugh, tell jokes and talk. He would ask me about my school and friends. He would ask my advice on the particular job he was doing. "What color should I paint this firstborn?" "Should I put another nail in here, firstborn?" And he would listen carefully to me like I had an important opinion. "Good thinking firstborn" he would say with a pat on my back.
"Mom is coming home soon lets have something good to eat." We would share a can of chili or his other favorite was corn beef hash that he would slice and fry in a pool of bacon grease. The same bacon grease grandma saved in a coffee can. "Don't tell Mom", he would say, "she doesn't understand good eating." And it was good, Saturday mornings back then were real good.
