This morning the skies were overcast and the wind pushed the tree tops around outside my window. The temperature was a cozy 75 degrees and the gloom of the impending rain forced the children to remain inside. The television seemed a viable option even though we don’t tend to make that a habit for them. Amazingly enough we were able to find some good wholesome cartoons from my youth that are still being aired. I thought this would be the perfect time to take the kids back to a time that I grew up in. But how could I get that feeling of childhood enjoyment that I felt when I was so young? Cartoon selection was a good start. I flipped thru the hundreds of channels that grace our television the whole time recalling that only three channels existed in our community when I was there age, turning the old rotary dial televisions. Now staring at my 52 inch digital high definition television with hundreds of channels I realized how hard this may be. Scrolling thru I found old reruns of Tom and Jerry that would run for hours. That was a score even though Tom and Jerry was more of an after school thing when I was coming up, at least it was from my time. The children quickly became engrossed in the shenanigans of the Cat and Mouse games of the dynamic duo of mayhem. But there is only so much nostalgia involved in Tom and Jerry, however it would buy me some time.
I thought for a second and came up with a nice Saturday morning breakfast thought. But what would Nana have made on Saturday morning? Let’s start with eggs, being on the homestead here we have an abundant supply of eggs anyway. So I started some raw butter melting in the pan. I could still see thru the bedroom door that my wife was sleeping in this morning, what two birds with one stone? Breakfast in bed for her was a score of major brownie points and a good nostalgic farm breakfast for the kids. I whipped up a batter for muffins and dropped some fresh blueberries in it, popped it in the oven, started the eggs scrambling, carved a piece of maple cured ham off and started it in a pan on top of the stove. Started putting slice of bread into toaster two by two. I might actually be able to pull this off. I’m not accustomed to do the cooking even though I’m very well capable of making a good meal. My wife does most of the food preparation unless it involves a grill. My oldest son still at home strolled thru the kitchen on his way to plop down on the couch and enjoy the television phenomenon that was occuring in the living room. He gave a quick confused glance at me and ask ” your cooking dad”? I told him breakfast would be ready soon. Shortly after the alarm went off alerting me that the muffins had reached the eminent cooking capacity that would make them light and fluffy, I unloaded and reloaded the toaster, and flipped ham, as I was finishing the nice fluffy scrambled eggs. I quickly placed plates out and filled them with ham, egg and cheese sandwiches on toasted honey wheat bread. Blueberry muffins were placed on each plate and glasses were filled with orange juice. Looking up I could see my wife stirring a little, she had just reached for her phone to check the time when I pulled thru the door with a plate of piping hot breakfast and a tall glass of milk. She was almost surprised to the point of amazement ” what did you do” she ask. While she sat up to receive her food, I placed it in front of her fluffing up a pillow for her lap while she held the plate. As I came thru the door I watched children greedily stabbing at their plates with an eagerness I had not seen in a pretty good while, the whole time recalling how much I loved the scrambled eggs and hoecake that my own Nana use to prepare on Saturday mornings, I could still taste the syrup, as I peered thru the arch between dining room and living room,of the house I grew up in, to watch the cartoons that graced the tiny screen of our television. Now my vary own kids peered across the table at the TV to see Tom chase Jerry around, as they hungrily devoured the breakfast that had made the house smell wonderful. Had I reached success? I’m not sure, but now that we had eaten and returned to the living room I would sit in my recliner and enjoy the cartoons also. The youngest child barely 3 climbed into my lap wrapping his blanket around him to enjoy the festive cartoons. I glanced around the room and realized that everyone was happy. I had achieved a success that was satisfying me. But a premonition hit me as I smiled at the victory, I probably didn’t instill a moment of my youth in the children, they didn’t have a clue that this was a piece of my childhood, the only person that had a return to roots was me.