Throwback Thursday: Toast at Grandma's

This morning started out earlier than normal with a kiddo climbing into bed with me because of a bad dream. And then said kiddo proceeded to ask me if it was time for breakfast yet. . . . finally, I relented and got up.

When we made our way to the kitchen, I asked what was for breakfast. The reply, "toast." I congratulated myself because I had obviously come across as a woman who requested a no-hassle breakfast request. 

And as I put the bread in the toaster I was suddenly reminded of my grandmother. A morning, as I recall, that my sister and I were at her house when my parents went out of town (which happened like once in my childhood). I was maybe four years old. I woke up, got dressed and cleaned up, and went into the kitchen. Now, in my kitchen, walk in and make yourself some coffee (which I don't drink), tea (which I sometimes drink), or breakfast (which I usually don't make or eat), but in my grandmother's kitchen, you just didn't walk in and do anything.

Me, about three, on swing set

So she was tending to my breakfast. She might have asked me what I wanted (I was one of her favorites) or it's entirely possible that she  decided what I was going to eat. She had already decided what I was going to drink, café (coffee). OH yes, my grandmother was that grandmother--the one who doesn't listen when the mother asks to please refrain from serving her child coffee and the like. Yeah, my grandmother pretty well did what she wanted, especially in her own kitchen. 

This morning I was having toast. I recall sitting at the table (covered in plastic, by the way) with my sister as I waited for my bread to toast. It was bright in the kitchen; the sunlight was streaming in through the window above the sink and the window over by the stove, and the back door was open. And then in a flash, the toaster buzzed and out shot the toast. I don't mean a little bit, but literally flew in the air as if it had been shot from a rocket. It was the craziest thing and scared us silly. But we all had a good chuckle about it.

And so when I pushed the lever down on the toaster this morning, I couldn't but help smile a just little at the memory of toast at my grandmother's house. . . . 

¡Hasta la proxíma vez!