What do you get when you add together an unsuspecting target, three water ballloons, and a flawless sneak attack?
The start of one great Thanksgiving memory and Twin Brother Mark wet from head to toe. But it wasn’t my first that day. At 6 years old, I owed that tasty memory, and a tradition I’ve never forgotten, to Mom’s sweet potato souffle.
The Great Water Balloon Battle was a Thanksgiving tradition. Starting the first year we moved into our new house at 110 Flamingo Street, it continued for those seven years we lived there.
Just after lunch, the kids from Flamingo gathered to choose sides where our backyard bellied out and disappeared into the leading edge of a swamp. Neighbor Thomas, Bubba Hanks, Goofy Steve, the New Kid were on one side. My three brothers and the kid we all called Booger on the other.
Even though his nickname was Booger, he was still a good kid nonetheless. Along with a funny nickname, Booger had something else unique: the best throwing arm of all us kids. His aim was perfect every time, and that’s why Mark got wet from head to toe.
When Down the Street Bully Brad and his gang showed up, and they always did, the team makeup changed. Then it was all of us against them. By pre-filling balloons and hiding them all over the yard in buckets, we were well prepared for Bully Brad and company.
Battles usually raged all afternoon and ended when we either ran out of balloons or Mom called us in for dessert. Dessert brings us right back to Mom’s sweet potato souffle.
Most folks may not consider sweet potato souffle dessert, but then again most folks haven’t had my Mom’s. Experts say tastes and smells are the two strongest triggers to memories. Mom’s souffle was chock full of both. How she turned sweet potatoes we dug up from Dad’s garden the week before into such a mouthwatering side dish none of us knew.
It wasn’t until I had a family of my own that she finally passed on her special recipe of pecans, brown sugar, sweet potatoes, pineapples, eggs, and lots and lots of butter.
Growing up, we were only allowed one dessert, and I always chose Mom’s sweet potato souffle. When it comes to the eating part of Thanksgiving, I find being an adult is better than being a kid. Now I can have souffle and as many desserts that I want. But when it comes to the actual cooking of Thanksgiving, it’s better to be a kid than an adult. I’ll explain.
Mom started cooking early in the morning and didn’t finish until she placed the last platter of food on the table. After dinner, she and Dad continued working, cleaning and washing for hours. All us kids had to do was eat and have a water balloon battle in the backyard.
It was a lot of work: all that cooking, not the eating or water ballooning. Eating was easy, especially when it came to Mom’s sweet potato souffle.
As a parent I’ve enjoyed the many traditions surrounding Thanksgiving, and yes, that means even the hours of cooking and cleanup. Now as a grandparent, things have changed.
Last week I went grocery shopping, and they had samples of turkey and dressing, deviled eggs, orange cranberry sauce, and homemade yeast rolls. They must’ve gotten a copy of Mom’s recipe because even their souffle tasted just like hers.
When The Wife got home, I asked if she would mind if we just bought everything precooked from the local grocery store this year. The entire meaning of the holiday was wrapped up in her answer.
Her blue eyes sparkled as she said, “Spend all day working in the kitchen or spend all day relaxing with our family and the ones we love. No, I don’t mind.” She gave me a kiss, smiled and said, “That means I can also spend time with you later.”
I placed our dinner order the very next day.
I think this year will be a Thanksgiving to remember. Can’t wait to spend time with The Wife. She’ll be the first one I pick to be on my water balloon team.
[Rick Ryckeley has been writing stories since 2001. To read more of Rick’s stories, visit his blog: storiesbyrick.wordpress.com.]
