Of course, like so many other Mommyisms, it took me a few years to figure out she was saying that if you deliberately waste things, eventually, you will desperately want.
Like everyone who grew up in the 1950s and 60s, at nearly every meal, I heard, "Sydney, clean your plate. There are starving children in Africa."
I'd have gladly sent those children my peas, salmon cakes or my fried bologna. I'll bet they would have loved my cold, soggy, fried egg sandwich, with ketchup, Mom would send me off to school with every Wednesday.
Of course, that's the part that never made sense to any of us, right? Those poor children weren't going to get any of our food, whether we ate it or not.
But it is something I thought about today when my husband and I visited our little "farm," a part of the Community Garden, and found so many tomatoes that had gone to waste. I felt bad about it.
So that brings me to a few more Mommyisms that popped into my head today.
Here's one: "Don't throw the baby out with the bath water."
In today's world it's a reminder not to discard something valuable in your eagerness to get rid of some useless thing that's associated with it. I heard a politician use the phrase today while I was watching the news, and it reminded me of when my little sister and I were very young.
Mother would take a bath, and when she was done and dressed, she'd put the two of us in the bath together, using the same water she had just bathed in. She'd warm it up a little before we got in, but it wasn't something I ever gave any thought to.
As I got a little older and my sister and I no longer bathed together, Mother would remind me to save the water for my little sister.
Puts a new meaning to that little 'proverb,' doesn't it?
And speaking of baths, she'd also say, "Wash as far as possible and then wash possible." Yikes, I don't even want to think about what that meant. But I can tell you this - we for sure didn't want her to have come in and wash us herself. She was downright brutal. She'd could literally scrub a mole off my face. I swear, she used sandpaper. Whew!
And one more thing about bathing; is there anything more disturbing than having your mother spit-shine you in front of your friends? She'd lick her thumb and then press it back and forth across the dirty spot on my forehead. Yuck!
In the 59-years I knew my mother, I never heard her say one single curse word. I think I've mentioned this, but it's worth telling, again. There's a wine my husband and I buy called Fat Bastard, and we'd often try like the dickens to get my mother to read the name on the label, but all she would do is smile.
I, on the other hand, have been known to have the mouth of a sailor (no disrespect intended). Letting my anger about something get the best of me, I once cursed in front of Mom (and I do mean only once). Her response was - and this is priceless - "Something just came out of your mouth that I wouldn't hold in my hand."
Isn't that great?
Parting thoughts...
My husband always leaves a restaurant with a toothpick sticking out of his mouth. It drives me crazy, and I always try to pull it -- sometimes to the point that he gets angry with me. I'm pretty sure it's my mom's fault that I feel this way. She used to say, "Never pick your nose or your teeth in public. Nobody wants to see what comes out of either one."
Of course, she also said, "Never try to be someone you're not. Be genuine and be yourself." So, I guess if a toothpick sticking out of the side of his mouth is the worse thing about my husband being himself, then I can accept that and be grateful for what I have. He was always so good to my mother, deeply misses her and remembers her with great respect and love.
I love you, Mom, and miss you like the dickens.
