In July 1963, our 83rd Street building sprung a gas leak. We had no cooking stove for a w
eek.
eek. Even though school was done, we ate out and we could eat most our meals at both sets of grandparents on York Avenue. We still got hungry at home. One afternoon...
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“Mom, make us a grilled cheese.”
“Mom, make us a grilled cheese.”
“Mom, make us a grilled cheese.”
“Be quiet or die,” cautioned Mom.
“I’m so hungry,” Rory pleaded
“I feel weak,” I said.
“My head hurts.”
"I can’t feel my toes.”
“Mom, make us a grilled cheese.”
“Mom, make us a grilled cheese.”
“Mom, make us a grilled cheese.”
“Be quiet or die,” cautioned Mom.
“I’m so hungry,” Rory pleaded
“I feel weak,” I said.
“My head hurts.”
"I can’t feel my toes.”
“Your short lives are nearing their end. I’ll kill you both.”
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After we wore her out, Mom made us grilled cheese sandwiches using her iron and ironing board. Made herself one too. They were delicious, but Dad’s dress shirts smelled like buttered toast for a long time.
After we wore her out, Mom made us grilled cheese sandwiches using her iron and ironing board. Made herself one too. They were delicious, but Dad’s dress shirts smelled like buttered toast for a long time.
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Happy Mother's Day, Uncle Mommy! all our love, Rory & Tommy
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2 comments:
Yuummm I would have done the same as your Mom.
they would good, but a little starchy
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