刘清泉
AnytimeIseebananapuddingonamenu,I’mfilledwithaeuphoricsenseofwellbeingandtakenbacktoaspecialmomentinmylifewhenIlearnedanimportantlessonaboutjealousyandlove.
ItallbeganwhenmystepchildrencameforavisitshortlyaftertheirfatherandIweremarried.Cherylwas8,andChuckwas10.Oursmallapartmentsoonbecameanobstaclecourselitteredwithstuffedanimals,toys,andgames.
ButIlikedthekidsfromthestart.TheywereeverythingIcouldhavewantedinasonanddaughter.
Ofcourse,Iwantedtowinthemover.Theyseemedtolikemewellenough,butIwasn’tsure,especiallyatmealtime.Cheryl,inparticular,enjoyedwatchingmepreparetheeveningmealandshadowedmyeverymoveinthekitchen.Shehadaninsatiablecuriositycombinedwithanenchanting,yetsomewhatdisconcerting,honesty.
“Whatchadoing?”sheasked.
“Makingpotatosalad,”Ireplied.
Shestoodonhertiptoesandscruti-nizedthebowlsofchoppedpickles,eggs,andonions.Herlipscurledindisgust.Shepointedatthebowls.“What’sthat?Andthat...andthat!”
Myanswersdidnotseemtopleaseher.Sheshookherheadindisapproval.“Mymamadoesn’tmakeitthatway,”sheinformedme.
“Well,justtasteitatdinner,”Icountered,smilingthinlytomaskmyirritation.“Ifyoudon’tlikeit,youdon’thavetoeatit.”
Itbecameanightlyritual.Unfortu-nately,herfatherbelievedthatchildrenshouldeateverythingontheirplate,includingasampleofanydreadfuldishthattheirmothermadeinadifferentwaythanIdid.
Asaresult,IstartedtofeellikeSnowWhite’swickedstepmother,plottingagainsttheprincessasIwilledhertosuccumbtomyculinarymagic.Chuck,whoatfirstateanythingandeverything,developedcriticaltenden-cies.Hesoontookupthehueandcryof“Mamadoesn’tmakeitthatway.”
Eachnightafterdinner,wesatonthesofawithDadinthemiddle,achildoneachside,andmeontheoutside.Itseemedappropriate.Iwasfeelingmoreandmorelikeanoutcast.
Onenightwhilewrestlingwithhisfatheronthesofa,Chuckfoundsomestraypopcornkernelsunderthecush-ions.Cherylchastisedme,sayingthathermamaalwaysvacuumedundertheirsofaseatseveryweek.
Bythistime,Iwasdevelopingaseriousdislikebothforhermotherandhermethods.
Then,atlast,Ifoundadishtheirmamadidn’tmake—oneboththekidsliked-bananapudding.Theyhelpedmeinthekitchen.ChuckbeattheeggwhitesforthetoppingwhileCherylcarefullylinedthepanwithvanillawafers.Icutupthebananasandpre-paredthefilling.Theybothlickedthebowl.Weallhadfun.Itwasatimeofsharingandlaughter.
Later,makingbananapuddingbecameacherishedfamilytradition.
Onthelastnightbeforetheyweretoreturnhome,wehadarrangedafamilyget-together.Whenthedoorbellrang,Cherylscamperedtoanswer.Mysister-in-lawCarolstoodframedinthedoorwaywithalargebowlclutched
inherhands.“What’sthat?”Cherylimmediatelywantedtoknow.
“It’sbananapudding,”Carolof-feredproudly.
Cheryltookacloserlook,thenshookherheadfromsidetosideand
said,“Karendoesn’tmakeitthatway.”
Idissolvedinlaughterthatnooneelseunderstood.Suddenly,mytensionandanxietydisappeared,andIknewthatwhenthosekidsgotbackhome,theirmotherwouldbehearingalotabouthow“Karendoesn’tdoitthatway.”Shehadmysympathyandrespect.
ItseemedtheirmomandIhadmoreincommonthanIthought,webothusedoneimportantingredientinourcooking,themostactiveone-love.
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