His question brought back memories for me. Not about sugar, it’s true.
But I remember when I was very small and had to take a tablet, how my mother used to crush the offending, usually nasty-tasting thing and mix it with a teaspoonful of jam or honey for me.
I still remember the look of concentration on her face, as she crushed it between the bowl of one spoon and the back of another, without spilling even a small bit of the resulting white powder.
I also remember how she, as an ex-nurse, would use a spoon to depress my tongue and peer into my mouth when I complained of a sore throat.
I still remember my mother sitting on the edge of my bed as I ate, in the darkened room aftermath of measles, mumps or some other childish ailment.
‘Spoon-memories’ about spoonfuls of care.
And I also have some ‘spoon-memories’ of my father. Fun stuff … [Read more…]