Chapter 45
Children are certainly more nutritionally educated these days than we were years ago.
We sit down to the supper table and hear—gee, Mom, you’ve got two starches on the table, and you FRIED the pork chops, too!
! Mercy, we’ll all look like the Pillsbury doughboy by morning!
! I think I’ll just make myself a peanut butter sandwich and drink a glass of milk.
And all this talk about calories! The first time I ever heard the word, I was afraid to repeat it—it did sound just a little like it MIGHT be a dirty word and my Grannie didn’t tolerate shady talk.
Let me tell you one thing… when I found out that a calorie was a right pesky little fellow that crawls down in your innards then pulls off a changing act as it turns into FAT, I decided not to have anything to do with him.
I carefully went through all my recipes and destroyed every single one that even had that AWFUL word on it.
Wasn’t no body going to catch ME fiddlin’ around with something FATTENING! !
The other day our nutrition-conditioned child said the chocolate cream pie was “simply loaded with calories.” After ALL my careful shopping!
“Oh, no, it is NOT!!” I was more than aggravated.
“It has wholesome eggs from the meat group, good thick top cream from the milk group, two cups of sugar from the sweet group—don’t interrupt me—there is too a sweet group!
Where else does sugar fit in?—and a little flour from the grain group but it DOES not have calories!
I don’t cook with those things!! Look on my cabinet shelves…
do you see any packages marked CALORIES? ??
“Besides I didn’t make the pie for you to eat, or the scalloped potatoes, or the baked ham. Your supper is on your plate—a peanut butter sandwich!!!”