Popcorn and Soda Pop

We weren’t really poor when I was a kid, but I’d guess we were lower middle class, or maybe upper lower class when it came to our standard of living. It really doesn’t matter, because in spite of some bad stuff, we were happy for the most part. I credit Mom for that. This story is about one of the little things she did that made those times special.

She amazes me these days, because when I lift her up and put her on the pedestal where I feel she belongs, she complains that she doesn’t deserve it. She has the nerve to tell me she doesn’t think she was that good a mom. I can’t believe she doesn’t know how great she was, and still is. She says she made mistakes; well, duh! Didn’t everyone; doesn’t everyone make mistakes?

What Mom doesn’t realize is we don’t remember the mistakes; we probably don’t even know about many of them. What we remember is how much she loved us, and we don’t remember her love because of all the big things she did, or the things she bought for us; things I know she had to sacrifice so we could have them. She probably doesn’t realize that I noticed she did without things and worked extra shifts at hard and sometimes meaningless jobs, just so I could have the things I wanted.

No, what we remember are the little things; things like popcorn and soda pop. We didn’t do it often, and maybe that’s why it was such a treat, but every once in awhile, mom would buy a six-pack of soda pop—usually Barq’s in a variety of flavors, so we could all have our favorite. Then she would make a big batch of popcorn; this was before microwave popcorn, and even Jiffy Pop; so popcorn was done in the big pan. It was exciting watching her shake that pan—the lid clanging—so the popped kernels wouldn’t stick to the bottom of the pan.

Then we would sit in the floor, have popcorn and soda pop, and watch whatever was on television. (Yes we had television way back then, even though we didn’t have microwaves yet!) That’s the kind of things I remember; just a little thing, but a special time, with Mom and my sister and brothers.

You’re the best Mom!

3 Comments »

  1. Sherry said

    Those of us of a certain age remember the taste of REAL popcorn!!

  2. Wilma Brown said

    Hey Charlie i finally figured out how to use this comment thing
    thanks for the kind words I will try not to be on the I don’t deserve
    it train anymore and just enjoy the ride. Mom

    • OHH_KAAYY! You don’t need to be on no stinkin train, Mom! Sit yourself in the palm of God’s hand and let Him show you what he’s done. It’s the best ride going, and you have a ticket to ride!

RSS feed for comments on this post · TrackBack URI

Please leave a comment! We love hearing from you!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: