A Childhood Memory

Memories ...

As I was thinking today about my father when we were younger, I began recalling the excited evenings waiting for him to return home from work. There was me, my brother, and sister, playing in the living room while my mother was cooking in the apartment kitchen. The smell of bacon was throughout, and the crispy strips laid flat on the counter to cool were tempting, but they weren't to be eaten at our home - they were for the store. I remember feeling so confused because here was something that smelled so great, but our mother wouldn't let us have this great smelling thing. (This was however was an early glimpse of her lifelong strictness for cooking and eating healthy.) Regardless, we'd forget about it right away as soon as we heard the keys jingling outside. When our father stepped in the door with grocery bags full in his arms, we'd be yelling and once those arms were vacant we'd be jumping for them. "Daddy! You're home!"