Snippitts of Illusions

It's December 11th today. Today is my father's birthday. He would have been 63 or 64 years old... I have a hard time remembering ages, let alone birthdays. It's only been the last few years that I've been able to remember my mothers. I've only got one sister who's birthday I can remember, it's four days before mine. My fathers birthday I could always remember though. I think it has to do with the cream puffs.

One of my fathers favorite desserts is the cream puff, I've made them before little whisps of dough made from flour, butter (and how), and egg yolks, baked to a golden hue. Delicious. My father liked to drench them in chocolate pudding, cooked on the stove. For dinner on his birthday we usually had something tasty like meat loaf (I love meat loaf), or tacos, or oyster stew (yes, sounds gross but I do like it too, and my father loved it). For desert we'd always have cream puffs, smothered in chocolate pudding.

Each year growing up the celebration would be different. One year the entire clan would be up with all the kids, it took on a festive quality. Of course there would be fights, but not in the presence of my father, or at least not much. He wouldn't put up with it. The next year it might be him, my mother and myself, and perhaps my sister Debbie and her kids. Now matter what went on, or who was there, we had cream puffs smothered in chocolate pudding.

This year my niece has decided to celebrate her sons birthday today. Why? you may ask, because his birthdays on Christmas. She thought it would be nice to celebrate his birthday a little early so he can differentiate the two holidays. Today seemed like an appriopriate day to do so. I know my father wouldn't have cared. As long as there were cream puffs

posted by F.G. Shaw @ 1:05 PM