10 June 2019

[Bess Tuggle] - Memoirs of Surviving Children: Sunday Supper

Growing up, Sunday suppers at my grandmother’s was mandatory.  She’d cook all day long and supper was always awesome.

I think that was her way of getting rid of us.  Well, most of us.  She was just stuck with me.

Our parents dropped us off on Friday night.  Between my mom and my aunt, Ma had to put up with five grandchildren.  Parents went on their merry way to enjoy the weekend, and Ma had to put up with an unruly brood.  

Sunday supper was special, though.  We all gathered around the table together.  It was wonderful bonding time.  Family time.

We all pretty much had assigned seating.  Ma sat at one end of the table, Pa at the other.  My mom always sat to the right of my grandmother, and my youngest cousin sat to my mother’s right.  

Oh, that was a mistake.

Ma and Pa had a Cookoo clock in the dining room.  He chimed the half-our and full hour.

It became a family joke.  Every time the Cookoo would chime, my mother would dip her fingers in to a bowl of whatever vegetables were on the table.  Peas, corn, beans.. what ever was available.  Then she’d drip some kind of liquid over my cousin’s head and tell her the Cookoo peed on her!  

MY COUSIN BELIEVED IT!!!

And I gotta love it. 



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