Stick To The Ribs by Carol Wells
Pudding; the word conjures up thoughts of a velvety smooth desert that will gently roll over the tongue then down the throat. At least that may be the expectation until you read this humorous story from Carol …
As children, my brother and I loved the occasions when Mom fixed a large batch of her delicious homemade vanilla pudding. We would eat a bowl of this creamy mouthwatering fresh-out-of-the-pan creation while watching reruns of I Love Lucy. She refused to share this recipe with anyone so it eventually following the route of her turkey potpie - never written for others' future enjoyment.
I dipped my last bowl of Mom's homemade vanilla pudding in 1997. I should have known something was not quite right when the mixture did not smoothly roll out in greeting to the sides of the bowl. However, I optimistically excused this as a possibility of my childhood memories mentally slightly exaggerated over time.
I put a large spoonful of pudding into my mouth … then worked on forcing the gelatinous mass down my throat. My pained facial expression did not escape my mother.
"What's the matter," she asked with maternal concern while leaning forward ready to leap into action in case I needed the Heimlich maneuver. It did not appear to matter that her knowledge about this technique limited. Mispronunciation the name about the extent of what she knows about the Heimlich. Nevertheless, she was following the natural instinct of a parent willing to try helping her child if in distress.
I finally untangled my tongue from the gelatinous vanilla flavored mass. "What the heck is this," I asked almost accusingly while tilting my bowl to show her the contents.
"Pudding," she replied innocently.
"What sort of pudding?"
"Just your plain old vanilla, nothing fancy," she replied with a shrug of her shoulders.
"No, that is not what I meant. What sort of pudding is it that doesn't move in the bowl and one can stand up a spoon in the middle of it?"
Her body language revealed relief that she did not have to attempt doing the Heimlich and this may have helped my cooking critique to bounce off her shoulders. "The kind that will stick to your ribs," came the response from the now unalarmed woman.
About The Author:
© 1999-2006 Carol Wells
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