Think about a story your parents like to tell about you. It might be one when you were very little or the most recent one. Is it hard? Think about it really well. Can't imagine anything? Try a little harder, everybody has one. It is either funny, or touching or embarrassing, sometimes all in one. Has anything come to mind? Good. And the story by any chance connected to food? Because, let's be honest, they usually are.
Mine takes me back 20 years ago, when I was two years old. We had a family party, it was right after lunch, everybody was sitting in the living room and chatting - my mom, dad, sister, grandma, uncle, aunt and cousins. And then there was a little angel - ME - sitting on the floor - blond, almost whitish curly hair, the sweetest smile and beautiful violet dress. I was eating yoghurt. And right in the moment when everyone stopped talking to watch me eat and contemplate how cute and beautiful I was, I spilled a drop of the yoghurt on the floor. And there I go, this heavenly little princess, who can barely speak, disappointed by her failure.
"Oh, fuck!" Comes right out of the tiny mouth leaving my grandma close to heart-attack and the rest of family frozen in astonishment.
My parents like this story a lot and tend to tell it anytime they become a little nostalgic. The story usually comes accompanied by teasing: "You were so little and cute then, look at you know!"
Haha, mom, very funny (I think when sarcastic tone floods my mind).
When I told my story Alessandra Fumaggali, it immediately reminded her of her own anecdote.
About food, of course.
"I have one, too," she blurted out: "I was five years old, when my parents took me to a beach. I was having cherries for snack and then suddenly I swallowed one with a pit and I started choking. I didn't know what to do and started panicking. My face turned all red and everything seemed to be happening really fast. And then my dad came to me with absolute calm and hit me once in my back. I immediately spit the stone out and everything started to move on its own pace again. Everybody started laughing including me. It probably doesn't sound very funny, but my parents love this story and I think it is because it reminds them of the times when I was little and they were taking care of me."
We might not like the stories our parents tell about us. They describe us as like helpless, tiresome or vulgar. But at the end of the story there always comes a nostalgic smile on their faces. Whether your story is about food or not, and whether it shows you in good light or not, your parents tell it, because they care about you. It is a strange way of saying "I love you.” So we should set our teeth and say: "Yes, mom and dad, I remember, this one. It was really funny!"
And skip the sarcasm.
Mine takes me back 20 years ago, when I was two years old. We had a family party, it was right after lunch, everybody was sitting in the living room and chatting - my mom, dad, sister, grandma, uncle, aunt and cousins. And then there was a little angel - ME - sitting on the floor - blond, almost whitish curly hair, the sweetest smile and beautiful violet dress. I was eating yoghurt. And right in the moment when everyone stopped talking to watch me eat and contemplate how cute and beautiful I was, I spilled a drop of the yoghurt on the floor. And there I go, this heavenly little princess, who can barely speak, disappointed by her failure.
"Oh, fuck!" Comes right out of the tiny mouth leaving my grandma close to heart-attack and the rest of family frozen in astonishment.
My parents like this story a lot and tend to tell it anytime they become a little nostalgic. The story usually comes accompanied by teasing: "You were so little and cute then, look at you know!"
Haha, mom, very funny (I think when sarcastic tone floods my mind).
When I told my story Alessandra Fumaggali, it immediately reminded her of her own anecdote.
About food, of course.
"I have one, too," she blurted out: "I was five years old, when my parents took me to a beach. I was having cherries for snack and then suddenly I swallowed one with a pit and I started choking. I didn't know what to do and started panicking. My face turned all red and everything seemed to be happening really fast. And then my dad came to me with absolute calm and hit me once in my back. I immediately spit the stone out and everything started to move on its own pace again. Everybody started laughing including me. It probably doesn't sound very funny, but my parents love this story and I think it is because it reminds them of the times when I was little and they were taking care of me."
We might not like the stories our parents tell about us. They describe us as like helpless, tiresome or vulgar. But at the end of the story there always comes a nostalgic smile on their faces. Whether your story is about food or not, and whether it shows you in good light or not, your parents tell it, because they care about you. It is a strange way of saying "I love you.” So we should set our teeth and say: "Yes, mom and dad, I remember, this one. It was really funny!"
And skip the sarcasm.



