It was summertime. I was 10. We were unsupervised latchkey kids, my brother & I.
Breakfast was a big bowl (or two) of the favorite cereal of the week. For a few weeks (OK, the whole summer) I was hooked on Kellogg's corn flakes topped with a heaping spoonful of sugar.
Lunch was dinner leftovers or another bowl of cereal. If I was not in a hurry to get back to playing Mule, Spy vs. Spy or Ghost Busters on our high tech Commodore 64, I'd even make eggs for lunch. Sometimes scrambled, sometimes over easy. (It would be another year before I discovered soft poached eggs.)
Afternoon snack was almost always some sort of frozen delight. Ice cream sandwiches, mint chocolate chip ice cream, strawberry ice cream with real strawberry chunks, fudgesicles... We enjoyed the abundant treasure of yummy, sugary goodness from our freezer as we watched Thundercats, Voltron and every other cartoon.
In between all that eating, playing and general dilly dallying we actually read books. Because we had to. One book a week and write a book report. I wish I knew where those book reports are, I'd love to read them now.
Anyway, my point is...I was a fat little girl and my brother was skinny. It's so unfair.
Breakfast was a big bowl (or two) of the favorite cereal of the week. For a few weeks (OK, the whole summer) I was hooked on Kellogg's corn flakes topped with a heaping spoonful of sugar.
Lunch was dinner leftovers or another bowl of cereal. If I was not in a hurry to get back to playing Mule, Spy vs. Spy or Ghost Busters on our high tech Commodore 64, I'd even make eggs for lunch. Sometimes scrambled, sometimes over easy. (It would be another year before I discovered soft poached eggs.)
Afternoon snack was almost always some sort of frozen delight. Ice cream sandwiches, mint chocolate chip ice cream, strawberry ice cream with real strawberry chunks, fudgesicles... We enjoyed the abundant treasure of yummy, sugary goodness from our freezer as we watched Thundercats, Voltron and every other cartoon.
In between all that eating, playing and general dilly dallying we actually read books. Because we had to. One book a week and write a book report. I wish I knew where those book reports are, I'd love to read them now.
Anyway, my point is...I was a fat little girl and my brother was skinny. It's so unfair.
4 comments:
Fat Girl, don't be sad. All little boys are skinnier than little girls. It's why, as men, they die early. I think God was a little fat girl.
Thanks for the comforting words, Olga Balboa =)
Yeah, that was the only bad thing about sleeping over at your place. The dreaded book reports.
togapii! =) you didn't ever sleep over for a week, did you?
Post a Comment