This may be my final column because if Mom doesn’t kill me then Lee Lee Parsley probably will.
Next week my food column is going to be about corn because I’m starting to see fresh corn in the grocery store, and who doesn’t need another corn recipe?
Anyway, thinking about corn reminded me of this story.
The reason Mom might kill me is because just like any other Reporter reader she no longer sees the paper until it is already printed and I bring one home after work on Wednesdays.
When dad “retired” a couple of years ago he would still come down to the office on Tuesdays to help Mom proofread the paper before it went to print. Mom was the “official” proofreader until she decided she wanted to retire too. So now we proofread it ourselves.
And don’t let there be a mistake in the paper or she will let us know immediately.
Unfortunately this is where I have to embarrass both my mother—who won’t eat corn—and Lee Lee Parsley, the reason she won’t eat corn.
If you are easily grossed out you should probably stop reading now.
Harold and Martha Parsely had to drop Kathryne and Lee Lee off at our house in a hurry. There had been a death in the family in Dangerfield and they needed to get out of town fast.
Lee Lee was born in 1970 so I’m guessing it was either that year or the next. He was still in diapers at any rate.
It was only about 15 years ago when our family discovered Mom wouldn’t eat corn. I had brought home a corn casserole for Thanksgiving and really wanted Mom to try it because I really liked it.
And since she is the one who taught me to cook and gave me my love of cooking I particularly wanted to hear her say how good it was.
Surreptitiously, I watched her put just a tiny bit on her plate. Since it was Thanksgiving I didn’t think much about her very small serving because there are always a ton of choices for your plate on that holiday.
I was still watching during the meal to see if she was going to try it because I wanted to hear her say how good it was. She never ate a bite so I finally got mad and asked her why she wasn’t eating it.
She did the whole Southern Belle thing and tried to taste a very small bite and declared it delicious. But by that time all eyes were on her and we weren’t buying any of it. None of us realized she wouldn’t eat corn.
So she broke down and told us about Lee Lee.
In the Parsley’s haste to get out of town quickly they forgot to change the baby so Mom had to do it. She said, “Oh my gosh.
She said, “Oh my gosh. It looked like somebody had emptied a can of cream corn in that child’s diaper.”
And she was never able to eat corn again. Poor Mom.
And it’s all your fault, Lee Lee. I have a similar story
I have a similar story about rum. I haven’t been able to drink it or even smell it since 1982 after a graduation trip to Cancun.
—kwc—
Please read Raynard’s column in sports this week. There isn’t much sports to write about so he’s writing about today’s issues and how they affect him. As a young black man, his views on these issues are far more important than any from an almost 57-year-old white guy wearing golf clothes.
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