I credit my mother for my love of birthdays. She tried to make each of us feel extra special.
On “our day,” we were able to set the menu for dinner. For modern families with microwave this and instant that, many families eat what they want daily. Not us. This family of seven had dinner together daily and what was served was eaten. So to pick the menu was a big deal!
I always picked fried shrimp and a can of black olives (I didn’t care what other green or starch was on the table). Instead of cake for dessert, I chose mom’s exceptional pecan pie. I can still picture her standing over a small pan filled with oil, deep fry cooking battered shrimp that came frozen. She would cook the shrimp in little batches and we would eat, swoon, and ask for more.
My two older sisters were born on the same day, exactly one year apart. (Take that, history books.) I’m sure they were not thrilled about sharing their special day. Still mom tried to make it special for each of them. I only remember that on that day, there were two cakes or pies….whatever the birthday girls desired.
When the candles were lit, the singing began. We sang the traditional birthday song, but in four part harmony. There was nothing quite like it (Von Trapp family, move over).
Mom and dad were a good team, but the kitchen was mom’s domain. She made preparing meals a gift, and taught me to love birthdays.
Drawing on Words 