Wednesday at Grandma's

Frasier sat wide-eyed beside his grandmother on the three-cushioned sofa. A white Labrador, showing little interest in the conversation sat at their feet while a tabby kitten struggled in an attempt to comfortably snuggle between the humans.

“Did mama go there too?” he asked the elderly lady.

“Oh, yes. Both she and your uncle Clarence went to their grandma’s every Wednesday for lunch; it was special.” Smiling she said, “I remember them telling me about the ‘soupy beans’ with burnt cornbread, the fall-apart meatloaf with lumpy mashed potatoes, or other treats prepared for them.” They especially liked the cookies.

“Each Wednesday your mama would remind me not to make sandwiches. Lunch pails with their thermos remained in the cabinet, When the school bell rang signaling lunchtime, they raced to their bicycles, and peddled to the blue house across the street from the white church …”

“Was that her grandma’s house?”

“It was. It belongs to someone else now. Each week they would tell me how good grandma’s house smelled. Apparently, the combined aroma of freshly baked cookies, and a special lunch was lingering as temptation for two excited and hungry youngsters.

“I like going to your house, and I like the smell too.”

“I’m glad. You probably don’t remember, but your mama took you to her grandma’s house just like she brings you to mine. Your mama’s grandma was my mama. Did you know that?”

“Uh huh. She told me; and you’re her mama– Did you go to your grandma’s?”

“Of course, where do you think I learned how to make cookies?”

By Dresden Fear

From: United States

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