Breakfast at Grandma and Grandpa's
Posted: Wednesday, August 24, 2011
by Krista Aman-Widgren
Gospelflier
As a child, the family would gather at Grandma and Grandpa’s house for Sunday breakfast. The kitchen table was big enough for Grandma, Grandpa, my Mom, Aunt Judy, Uncle Dick and his wife Linda, and my cousins Robert, Jennifer and Nikki. Of course Grandpa had his old grey dog, Benji.
Grandma would start by frying up a mess of bacon and eggs while my mom and sisters helped. I set the table since I was the oldest grandchild. Then Grandma would heat up a giant griddle and start making up hotcakes. I would watch her as she would pour the batter on the griddle and then flip hotcake over when it would start to bubble up. Then she would yell, “Hotcakes are on” and everyone would sit at the table.
Everything looked so good, but I ate so little. I really had trouble with a poor appetite. I ate half of my pancake and a piece of bacon and some of my eggs and was done, so my grandpa had a little strategy; he would call Benji into the kitchen and take a pancake dipped in bacon grease and give it to him, saying “Look here the dog is eating more pancake than Krista. Look at that little bitty guy go.” And he would start laughing. So it would be a competition and I would eat a bit more of my pancake.
I was thinking I was done, but then I would look at my Uncle Dick’s plate. There was something about seeing food on his plate ever since I was a baby that always got me to eat. So I would reach over and took a bite of something off of his plate. “Oh, can I have a bite of your pancake?” “Sure!” He said. I took a bite of pancake and announced I was full.
Everyone was pushing their plates away. “Eat, Mother!” My mom said to Grandma. “Who wants more coffee?” Aunt Judy asks everyone as she walks around the table with the steaming percolator. Grandma sits down, hot, covered in flour and bacon grease and happy. Her brood is full and chatting quietly. My cousins are done and playing outside already. But I am just content to be at the table. The dishes will be cleared away by my aunts and mom and washed later by hand.
As an adult, the family breakfasts are a thing of the past. We all have our lives to live. But the family values I learned from those mornings stay with me. Love and generosity and joy and warmth. We still get together on occasion for family dinners and I treasure those just as much. And you know what, now that I am married, I eat off my husband’s plate once and a while and food off his plate still tastes better than it does off of mine.
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Top-level comments on this article: (4 total)Thanks for sharing this, Krista. Those breakfasts sound amazing, what a great memory to have.
You took us there! Thanks for sharing your memories.Your welcome!
Thanks for sharing your memory, Krista. The only time we eat a real breakfast like that is if we go to IHOP or sometimes homemade for supper, but I remember similar breakfasts as a kid. I think those times really kept people connected.
Your story took me back to family breakfasts of my own. My mother would stand forever making potatoe pancakes. No one will ever make them as good as her. It's unfortunate some children never experience something as simple as family meals together. That special time is much more valuable than any toy or video gizmo parents can buy for their child. Wonderful article Krista.
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