Both of my parents worked when I was growing up and my sisters and I were left to spend the time between the end of our school days and the end of our parent's work days in the company of housewives who made money by babysitting other children in similar situations in their homes.
One such babysitter we had, was a woman named Zola. There's not much I actually remember about Zola - she had short black hair, was a few pounds overweight and had a husband and two kids of her own, though I couldn't tell you anything about them. I recall her being fond of country music - which was awful for me at 8 years old as I was a die-hard Beatles fan. I remember one couple that Zola was friends with and I remember them being horribly overweight. My sisters and I had never been around people who were overweight and we simply didn't know what to make of it. I remember, albeit vaguely now, this couple sitting in Zola's dinning room and talking about how they had come to a decision that they would both "say to hell with it, let's just get fat." - or words to that effect. I swear, I'm not kidding. I remember being confused and disgusted and it took a long time for me to realize that people with weight problems don't just decide to "get fat".
What I remember most about being left in Zola's care after school, was Zola herself forever ruining my fondness for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Zola made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches like no one I'd ever seen before - and she shouldn't have. Zola's idea of a PB&J was to put an enormous glob of peanut butter into a big bowl, followed by a glob of jelly. She would then mix the two together until she had something that looked like apple butter - only it wasn't, not even close.
Go ahead and say that things all end up in the same place when you eat anyway. I'm here to tell you that even the best peanut butter and jelly sandwiches are rendered completely unappealing once you've had a PB&J ala Zola. It is not the same. Nearly forty years later and I can still taste
that abomination of a sandwich that I used to love. Ever since then it was one or the other, but never both together. Oh the scars of my childhood...try making your next PB&J the way Zola did - I guarantee it will change you.
1 comment:
Actually, son, I prefer me one a' them fried peanut butter 'n' banana samiches that my dear mama used ta fixed up fer me. Now them was some right good eatin' I'm here to say.
Now, you done went and made me hungry with all this "bloggin'" about PB&J an' what not. I'm gonna have Red fix me up one or two a' them right now. Glory, glory Hallelujah! Thank you, thank you very much.
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