“Over the river and through the woods, to grandmother’s house we go…”
Except for me, it was more like “we’re on the same side of the Mississippi River and just driving through the suburbs of Baton Rouge, to Maw Maw and Poppee's house we go…it’s only a ten minute drive. Can we stop at the snow-ball stand on the way, Momma?”
Going to my Maw Maw Leona and Poppee Earl’s house was almost like going to work at my own artist’s studio.
I never went to Action Park because I didn’t live in New Jersey but if I did, would I have been bad-ass enough to go?
My Momma forbade me from going to water parks because they were mostly “death traps” and heck, I never even went to summer camp because I was too afraid to sleep away from home. (Even day camp terrified me because I’d rather be home watching “David the Gnome” and doing mystical mermaid dancing in the living room than sharing Hi-C juice boxes with the other children.)
I didn’t need water parks or summer camp because my momma and dad were able to create summer experiences for me that were just as gnarly, totally tubular and rad and arguably maybe even more gnarly, rad and bad-ass than Action Park and any summer camp experience combined.
As a kid, I wasn't a picky eater. But, when it came to my lunchtime repertoire I got easily bored of cold sandwiches and my mom told me Lunchables were the devil (to those of you who've seen “The Waterboy”, yes, like Kathy Bates’ character, most Cajun mommas really do tell their kids that all temptations are the devil.) So, enter the school lunch time woes