Monday, October 27, 2008

A Jam of a Mess

Our family loves food. I don't think we're gluttons, necessarily. We just love good food. I, myself, am constantly on the look out for fine chocolate. We also seem to adopt family members based on what type of food they enjoy. If they like homemade ice-cream, we've been known to smile endearingly and say, “We must be related!”
We have a lot of funny stories about food. One in particular never leaves my mind for very long and I thought I would share it here because other people might have the crazy sense of humor the Holter family has. :-)
In Saskatchewan one spring, my parents, along with two of my siblings, were gone on a trip. My grandparents were staying with us children to make sure we didn't get into too much trouble and to help out with the work.
Before my parents departed, Mom had made up a batch jam from rhubarb and applesauce (believe it or not, that combination makes an excellent jam). We can our jam and fruit in quart jars because we eat such quantities of it.
Anyway, one morning, a bowl of our lovely jam ended up on the floor somehow and what a mess that was! But the real showdown came the next evening.
Hannah had asked for the jam twice and no one was paying her the least bit of attention. At the same time, Zeke (7, at the time) grabbed his plate and came around to the end of the table to get some jam put on his toast. As I helped him, Hannah stood up so she could get the jam herself. Zeke was just picking up his plate so he could go back to his place, when Hannah reached over me to grab the jam. Unknown to her, there was condensation on the outside of the jar and she put a healthy squeeze on that puppy as she tried to lift it to carry it to her plate.
You can imagine the following scene: She actually shot that jar of jam straight at Zeke. Nothing broke, thankfully, but he was literally covered in jam. He had it in his hair, his eyebrows, on his forehead, cheeks and chin, his arms and hands; his shirt was red and wet, and so were his pants... he even had jam on his feet. And the floor was a disaster!
Being that all seated at the table were Holters, the situation appealed to our sense of ridiculousness and we all sat and laughed hysterically for over five minutes. :-) After all, what's the use of crying over spilt jam? :-)

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