My Dad loved to tell stories about us kids. The more embarrassing the story, the better. And, I might add, the stories expanded over the years.
Case in point was the platter of chicken. The summer after my senior year of high school,I had biked home from work one day, back when I was a bagboy. I found on the kitchen counter a platter of 6 SMALL boneless chicken breasts that had been barbecued. They were still hot. My dad was nowhere to be found.
So naturally I assumed he had had his chicken already, and was out and about doing whatever single dads did back in the early 80s. So I started munching on the chicken just standing there in the kitchen, and after what was at LEAST an hour, he came home.
“Where’s all the chicken?? ” he asked “Didn’t you have yours already?” “NOoooo” “OH…” said I. He would tell it that he was gone for just a bit to pick up something to go with dinner. Fred Meyers was honestly across the street and up the stairs away. He claims to have been gone a few minutes but I swear it was closer to an hour. And yep, if you hadn’t guessed as yet, I had eaten the dinner meant for both of us, ALL of it…
He ended up ordering a pizza, I had a piece of that too…
As the years grew, the numbers of chicken breasts I ate grew with each telling of the story, and for some reason, this was one of his favorite stories about me. In one of the last renditions i heard him tell, it was 20 full chicken breasts that he had cooked up for our dinner, and then for left overs to be frozen. AND he was only gone a total of 5 minutes, maybe 10. I was a human vacuum!!
This story come to mind because of the oldest kid. Last night he got home from his first day at his summer job at the Roasted Corn on the cob stand and was hungry. It was about 10 PM, and I asked if he wanted me to make him something. “No, I’ll just have a sandwich, HEY is this chicken up for grabs???” As he took it out and bit into it.
I had barbecued chicken on Sunday and I was brining part of it each day to work to have with my salad. He found the biggest piece which would’ve lasted at least two days…..
I couldn’t help but smile as he was chewing, as my dad’s story popped into my head. I guess there really is no stopping a hungry teen male. In this case, it was only one piece, so I may have to live into my 80s to stretch it up to at least double digits. I can see it now:
“Yep, I remember back in the summer of 13, the kid came back and ate ALL the chicken I had set aside for lunches… Hell there musta been 11 pieces for sure… The kind had a hollow left leg I tell ya….”
Yep still smilin…. AND I will be making more chicken on the 4th! He works this weekend too.