Just Call Her Smokey!

Happy New Year everybody.  Hope your holiday season was wonderful.  We ate like a bunch of pigs then spent the next couple of hours farting, burping, and sleeping.  The fat man was good to each of us too.

Christmas dinner was a successful event here.  It was a glorious bunch of heart attack, butter laden, and carbo delicious foods that we all dove into like we had never eaten before.  My Mom, sister Ann, brother Dan, and I were all in the kitchen cooking.  It didn’t take long before my siblings and I resorted back to our childhood ways and began rolling our eyes at each other or making snide remarks.  My Mother’s comment of “Why did I have children”, I knew it was my cue to get the hell out of dodge!

Why you ask?  Don’t mess with my Mama.  I bet battling the devil is easier.  I have childhood memories (or should I say nightmares) of her gritting her teeth, frowning her eyebrows, flaring her nostrils and saying “YOU WAIT TILL I GET YOU HOME”.  It might have taken my several beatings but I eventually learned the triggers before she gets to that point.  One of those trigger are “Why did I ever have kids”.  Hence, me leaving the kitchen…I am the smart kid, the other two still choose to stand there and push more buttons.

So Mama is in the kitchen making her famous Macaroni and Cheese.  She puts it into the oven.  As it is cooking, the milk begins to run over and onto the bottom of my oven.  The entire house fills up with smoke.  We have doors open and windows open.  Vince is holding a fan in front of the door.  My step-father Bob is waving a towel around.  Our eyes are watering and we are all coughing.  Mikey got it all on tape.  Dinner was excellent anyway after we got all the smoke out of the house.

Jump forward to January 30th.  I am making a Angel’s Food Cake.  I preheat the oven while I am beating the egg whites.  I begin folding the flour mixture into the whites when black smoke pours out of my oven.  I look down at the stove window and see flames.  I scream for Vince to help me.  He comes out of the bedroom to see the entire downstairs filled with black smoke.  I am coughing, my eyes are watering, and I am trying to find the baking soda.

Vince:  “What the hell are you doing?  What are you burning?  You are going to kill us all!”

Amy (coughing, gagging):  “I am trying to bake a cake.  It isn’t in the oven yet.  It is Mom’s Mac-n-cheese from Christmas that is burning.  Shut-up and help me find the baking soda”. 

Vince: (now also coughing, gagging):  As he opens up the oven and proceeds to BLOW on the flames (yeah, he is an idiot but let’s just be thankful he isn’t a fireman).  “Why do you need baking soda”?

Amy:  “OMG!!! Get the baking soda before you burn the house down”!!!!

He gets it and dumps it in.  We are now running around the house opening windows, doors, running fans etc.  The kids coming running down the steps thinking that the house is on fire.  I am laughing.  Vince says, “This is all your Mom’s fault” and is laughing too.

From now on, I will be afraid to turn on my oven and every time I burn something, it will make me think of my Mother.  So to all of you out there that know my Mama…M. Linda McCloskey….just call her “smokey”.  Happy New Year!

About asciotti

Please keep in mind that I never grew up on a farm, lived in the city or its suburbs all my life. Many farmers out there will find this blog a hoot as I stumble through the every day life of running a farm (most of the time...all by myself).
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