The early 1970’s were a busy time in our household.
There were a couple of little people being born. And a bunch of us already growing up.
Some of us were a little further along in the growing up process than the others. But none of us were very far along at all. Being a large family we all had to pitch in. Though some of us (them) didn’t have to do much. On occasion they were willing to try their best to help out. They just weren’t very skilled at it. My older brothers had to do things like take out the trash, help dad with outside work, you know-man stuff. I had to start the oatmeal or Cream of Wheat in the mornings, or coffee for the parents. Help with the babies, do dishes, that kind of stuff.
The younger sister one day, wanted to help. Or needed help. I’m not sure which. And decided to pack her own lunch for school. It was Lent. We all went to a Catholic grade school. Growing up Catholic, we don’t normally associate Lent as a time of year full of fun stories. But I can never hear the word “Lent” without thinking of this and laughing. And the older I get, the more I embellish it in my head, and enjoy it even more.
She oh so helpfully packed her little lunch and went off to school.
At lunch time she sat down in the gym turned cafeteria for lunch time and unpacked her lunch.
Do you know what sound makes a bunch of nuns come a running in the 1970’s in a grade school cafeteria?
When they hear little Bubba pop a top of her dad’s Near Beer she packed for lunch. Thank God (no pun intended) he gave up real beer for Lent.