Mother May I

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It seemed silly to me then. She nearly always said yes. If she wasn’t about to say yes, I wouldn’t have asked.

Mother, may I be excused (from the dinner table)? May I go out to play? May I bake something?

About the only way I could get my request denied was to ask the wrong question.

Can I be excused?

“Why no, of course not! What self-respecting mother would excuse such an impolite remark, and from her own darling child, no less?”

“Mom, can I bake a batch of cookies?”

“Barbara, you’re ten years old. If you don’t know whether you can bake a batch of cookies by now, I hate to tell you this, but I’m kind of worried about you. Yes, you may bake a batch of cookies. But don’t use the chocolate chips because I’m saving them for Sunday.”

Mom loved words. She was quick and fun, and she was encouraging.

So today, in honor of my mom, and May Day and of our never-ending efforts to learn to communicate well with each other, I made cookies that bring me home, a place where most of the questions I asked were soft and dripping with sugar: Molasses Crinkles.

Happy Friday!
Come and get ’em!

2 Comments on “Mother May I

  1. Barb, another thing our Mothers had in common. Mom would send my letters back from college with the corrections. She also loved words. I wonder if Grandma or Grandpa were the reason? I had an absolutely wonderful meal at Marian’s last night. Amy & I went there to pick up a few things for another cousin. I didn’t expect her to have so much tasty food. I was way too full when I left. She was raised by the same woman as you. It runs in the family I do believe. I saw your senior high picture. You look amazingly the same. It’s not fair. And, the cookies look delicious.

    Like

    • That’s an interesting snippet about your mom. I am glad you and Amy got to go to Marian’s. I wish I could talk her into moving to South Carolina with me. I love living here. I would love to see every Bennett pack up and move here. Do you ever think about moving south?

      Like

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