Baked Potato Rocks

Many years ago I had my own baked potato.

It was a special baked potato.

Made just for me.

I grew up in a pretty big family.  Eight kids, plus mom and dad.   Meal time was usually at home.   Probably because others feared having to feed us, or we didn’t have enough cars to haul us all in.

I kid of course.

Picture a vehicle or two full of kids dressed in 70’s garb.  Driving merrily down the road.   Heading out to go a visiting.

I do remember being very excited about going to Aunt Linda and Uncle Keith’s for dinner.   We were going to have meatballs and baked potatoes.

I was all a twitter about visiting and having a big meal at the aunt and uncles.   I have to state here, and now, for the world wide record to be noted….  that my family is full of phenomenal cooks.   There are no better.   There is one reported family member who could not cook, but I probably better get permission from someone else before I write about her.   There are some pretty funny stories there.

But this aunt and uncle are damn fine cooks.  Note this.   And remember it.

The house was full of cooking pans FULL of enough meatballs and sauce to feed us all to our fullest and contentest state of being.

We all got our plates.   We got as many meatballs as we wanted.   And we got our very own baked potatoes.   Large, soft, perfect potatoes.

It was all so perfect.   The evening was fun.   The food held such promise.

There was butter and sour cream to scoop up and slather on the potato.

Of course it had to be cut open first.

So I did.

Cut it open that is.

To find it full of rocks.

I can still feel that little bit of suffering and pain in my chest.   There were so many of us there.   Why was my baked potato the one full of rocks?   Why!?

It took me awhile to get over.

Surely they gave me more potato.   I don’t even recall.   All I remember is the horrible let down of cutting in to the potato.

To see rocks.

Where there should be no rocks.

I’ll get over it.

One of these days.


Special note to a certain aunt who may read this….   I know you remember this well.  And of course  I remember you apologizing and making over my rocky potato.   But it ties us together  in a certain way to share this.   Don’t you think?  I thought about it today and wanted to share.