That Story You Don't Really Remember

Have you heard the same story again and again over the years so many times you know the story and you feel like you were there, only you don't know that you really were?  We had post-Christmas dinner with family friends tonight and one of the traditional stories came up.  I think this story comes up at least once every other year.  I remember the story like I was there, at least I think I was, only I'm not sure.

This year, I asked more questions.  I found out the era in which this story happened (it was a cooking calamity).  At about that time I was somewhere around thirteen to sixteen years old, and that explains a lot about why I don't remember it.  A young teen doesn't care much about food.  What I cared about in those days was not how well the turkey was cooked (or in this case the goose).  I wanted to play video games with my friend or board games or do puzzles or make origami models or anything other than discuss the intricacies of roasting a goose.

I especially didn't care if it was a wild goose given to our friends by their friends who had shot it themselves.  It didn't bother me that the pin feathers stuck out as the goose was roasted and I don't think I cared one bit that the meat was terribly dry.   I had other pursuits that were more important.  On the whole, I probably liked the cheese and crackers more than the goose anyways.

But it's a fun story and it was a mess and it was one of those "disaster meals" you remember for years that never goes out of style in the telling.  Even though I have very little personal memory of the event itself, I remember back to that time and I have a warm feeling inside because I loved those times spent with our friends during the holidays at their vacation home.

The Big Boy Update:  Sweat band muscles.  We have some sweat bands.  Like the old kind you wore if you were a tennis player in the eighties.  My son has decided if he puts them on his upper arms, they are muscles.  Sometimes he has to "put his muscles on" before he combats evil in the house.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  "I got the mar malls.  Look, it's a mar mall!"  She has a new found fascination of not only the, "marbles" but the marble run puzzles we got for Christmas from our friend, Cam.