My best friend and I raised our boys’
together. Between the two of us, we had six boys. Biological sons’.
That doesn’t include the kids that decided to move in with us, at
any given moment, and expect to be fed. There were a lot. A LOT!
The most I’ve ever seen around my kitchen table was 18, but there
could have been a few more hidden around the corner, in the closet or
under the bed. We both had the same problem – collecting children.
We also both tended to collect pets.
When I say pets I mean dogs, cats, chickens, cows, goats, snakes,
squirrels, tarantulas, rabbits, birds, pigs, baby deer… Oops, she
had peacocks and guinea hens, too. Not that we searched for them,
they just seemed to gravitate towards our houses. There was NEVER a
dull moment.
This Edition of Bess Tuggle's "Memoirs of Surviving Children Brought to You by...
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| Good Music, Good Friends & Good Times |
7189 Turner Lake Rd
Covington, GA 30014
770-385-3060
The kitchen in both households was the
main congregation room. The kids –all- flocked to the kitchen.
Breakfast, lunch, supper, snacks… Food, in general.
All the pets learned that, too.
Neither of us had a 5 second rule. If food hit the floor, the first
animal that got to it WON. Kids included. If you wanted to see a
major feeding frenzy, drop a piece of watermelon on the floor and try
to guess who’d get there first. Bacon could raise it to a whole
new level.
I never had a “nasty” kitchen. It
was just lived in, as was my friend’s. I scrubbed the floor once a
month (it took 4 hours on hands and knees) with engine degreaser, and
I painted part of the walls quarterly. Painting the strip on the
walls rose according to the age of the children. Two feet off the
floor, then three, then four… It depended on where their little
hands rubbed, and the size of the animals that did the same. My
friend kept an egg incubator in her kitchen and dealt with the same
problems. The chicks were AWESOME! There was no such thing as
having all the dishes cleaned at the same time. Our kitchens were
the place to –live- in and crumbs could be fought over!
My children’s father finally put a
name to what we were doing. We were “building strong immune
systems.” With that mix of children and animals, there was no
other choice.
You can still walk in our kitchens
with dirty, bare feet. You’ll probably leave with dog hair between
your toes and some delicious cookies in your tummy. Cupcakes cost
extra.
