I was cleaning the kitchen dry goods cabinet and pulled out two loaf bread bags. One had greened over Play-Doh looking residue stuck in the bottom of it. Into the garbage it went. The other had half-dozen or so hard, very hard, slices in it that were still white--hard white planks they were--evidently they had been treated with some special preservatives.
And they are "special"...
...calcium propionate...?
Hmm. On-its-own, it's a scary-enough-sounding sandwich ingredient. Then, considering the sodium-laden processed animal segments that are gonna' go into that potential sandwich...?? Scary indeed are the sandwiches.
I took the plastic sack of enriched bleached flour roofing shingles outside and, one by one, sailed them out into the woody backyard with impressive Frisbee force. I smiled at my toss, my aim. These white fossils were championship-worthy.
It was then that I recalled how much joy I had gotten' in my life from plain white bread.
"Read Quietly, Class"
Our 6th grade class was herded into the library for a "quiet reading time". We were single-filed in, and seated according to how we had exited our classrooms, so the persons in the rows next to you in class were placed in front of and facing you in the library. The student placed directly across the table from me was Curtis.
 |
| The children were herded into here for their sliced bread ration |
I think Curtis wanted to like me, because, you know, I was kinda' cute. Nevertheless, he just couldn't get past how juvenile and hyper I always was compared to his own steady, calm demeanor.
He regularly appeared placid and unruffled, even as chaotic classroom shenanigans occurred around him. He was always telling me I ought to settle down, slow down, quit making so much noise, and that I was a nut. He would try to sound really aggravated, but I knew better, because the twinkle in his eye told me otherwise.
Sliced Fun
I retrieved a book from the shelf, but I was not going to read it.
Curtis had a book and was trying to read it.
For some ridiculous reason, and quite out of expected library protocol, our teacher and a couple of library helpers began to issue slices of white bread to each of us kids. No plates, no butter, no cheese, just white bread slices. We got two slices apiece. All I can figure is it was just what was left over from some bagged bread in the lunchroom that the lunch ladies didn't want to throw out.
Not really hungry, but going to eat it anyway, I labored over the first piece, carefully peeling off one brown crust at a time and eating them in peel succession.
...If you lose track during the following sequence of bread-breaking, don't fret, just read on...
The first one came off and went into my mouth like you'd expect--normal. The next peeled crust I placed on the table and rolled it up (Curtis' eyes did likewise) to look like rolled tape. I ate that. The next peeled crust got rolled the same, except this time I let it flop open again. Roll, Flop, Roll, Flop. I ate that, too. The fourth peeled crust from that slice I mashed out flat first, then rolled it up, and placed it aside on the table in front of me. I took a couple bites of the white that was left of that slice, then laid it aside for snacking during the second slice's disassembly.
I began the second slice by de-crusting also. I mashed the crusts flat and stacked them with the reserved crust-piece from the first slice. I was having fun. And I was relatively quiet.
The white remainder of that second slice was systematically and carefully taken apart, divided into many little sections, and rolled up into neat little white bread balls. I was having fun a little louder now.
I stacked a few of the bread balls into miniature snowmen. One of those I rearranged and rolled up into a now dirty white bread turd.
...I continue...
Take apart the others, and place the little balls in a pile. Thump a bread ball across the library
toward another table. Look innocent. Thump another. I feel I'm about to explode in laughter.
Life is a party for me right here in this library with my white bread issue--Curtis trying to ignore
me. I take a bite of the unmolested white snacking slice I have saved off to the side.
...and so it went.
I got the rolls from my brown reserve and re-mashed them into smaller bread balls, and I thumped a couple. Curtis looked up from his book to disdainfully moan at me, "This is the library and you act like you're at the carnival!" I of course thought that was hilarious, and I burst out laughing again, but this time at him, not at myself. I was given the harsh librarian-reprimand-stare. "Quiet!" she glared.
With the combination of more librarian threats and my bread balls being all thumped away, the party was over--my supply had depleted. I was out'a bread.
Short time after the library bread day, Curtis began sitting directly behind me in the classroom instead of in the row beside me, and sometimes he even braided my hair. Hmmm......boyfriended by bread.
Remember, I'm still just thinking...
If I'd had a cat
with me in the library, this would have happened. I love bread, but I love kitty-cats more.
 |
| Unfortunately, they didn't pass out cats that day |
If my mother
had been in that library, she would have skinned me alive for wasting bread.
Even after growing up,
white bread was my desire. I took Diesel Technology class (yep) and I always had my staple--
bagged balony sandwiches made with ketchup and mustard on white bread.
The Iron Kids brand white bread was my favorite at the time.
In my adult life
I have been teased by my peers for always having a loaf of white bread and a package of
sliced cheese. Instant sandwich. "You and your white bread", they'd say.
Next Generation of Taste Buds
When my son Christopher was just old enough to start eating "human" food, he discovered sliced white bread. You couldn't get him out of or away from a loaf. He loved it like nothing else. A boy after my own heart. My mom, after keeping him a couple times, stressed how much he "...sure does like to eat bread." I taught the baby right. Eat white bread, boy!
 |
| My sweet little bread-eater |
I'm older now (still juvenile-like), and heavier. Have to get the blood sugar checked every so often. Have to exercise twice as vigorously as I used to. Have to watch my diet. Oh woe is me! It was a dark dark day when my beloved and long-time Dr. Camp told me to "cut out the white" from my daily diet routine. My taste buds had to really grow up.
 |
| Bye-Bye White |
It's all about wheat bread in my cabinet now. What a drag it was at first. I had to ween off the white, but for the most part, I've done it.
An interesting thing however,
is how much faster the wheat loaves green-over than the white loaves do.
Don't know what Curtis is doing these days.
# # #
That's my baby girl, Hearing so much I did not know about, but loving her still
ReplyDeleteLove you Mom!
ReplyDelete