Childhood Obsession and the Chocolate Princess
Apparently, my love of food goes way back. Wayyyyyyy back. Some of my parents’ favorite stories about me basically include me sitting in front of a steamed bun for hours, quietly fawning and lingering over it. Easy way to keep me quiet: put food in front of me.
Fun and happy childhood memories often include food of some sort: a holiday (the lady at the white house on the corner who put spider rings in the little baggie of Halloween candy), a birthday (Danny Lueth was allergic to chocolate so I always had to make sure there was a non-chocolate option), a trip (the huge rainbow-swirly lollipops longer than my forearm at Disneyland).
One memory that I forgot I had popped into my head the day I snuck some mini-cinnamon buns from work. Someone had brought in a huge container, and I was hungry. I was trying to get a bit of exercise before heading home and knew I would be even hungrier afterwards, so I figured, I’ll take a few of these to make up for the calories lost exercising. To avoid getting everything sticky, I stuck them in a paper napkin and taped it up with scotch tape.
As soon as I opened up the package, a flood of memories rushed in. I realized it was an all-too-familiar feeling.
My dad used to come home promptly at 6:10PM from work. He’d ring the bell, and I’d run to the door. He’d hold his arms behind him and the game began. I would try and wrestle his arms out from behind and peel his fingers from his clenched fists. Sometimes he would pull a fake-out and his fists would reveal nothing but his empty lunch containers. But oftentimes, his hands would be holding little white napkin packages all wrapped up with scotch tape. I’d pry them from his hands and run to the kitchen and eagerly tear them open. Sometimes there would be chocolate chip cookies or brownies from a farewell party, other times, there were little triangle ham sandwiches leftover from a lunch.
I LOVED them. They were such a treat, especially since I didn’t grow up in a house with cold cuts or brownies (until I started baking them myself). I loved the mystery of the little white packages and the surprise of what was inside those beautiful little packages.
Given this strange obsession of mine since I was a wee little one, it was also no surprise when my parents, in cleaning their house, came across this story that I apparently was planning to turn into a bestseller. I’ve kept the original spelling and punctuation (I was 7) and illustrations for your reading pleasure. My rationale for this story is that my mom was expecting my little sister at this time. Enjoy.
The Chocolate Princess
In a KINGDOM, there lived a king, and a queen. The queen was going to get a baby! The King loved to eat potato chips. The queen loved to eat choclate! The king sat on his throne day after day, eating potato chips. Boy, were they aYum! The queen sat on her throne day after day, eating chocolate. But, when you eat what ever you like a lot, when your have a baby, your baby turns to that thing! The queen didn’t know that. One day, the baby was born! But she was chocolate! The king and queen were SURPRISED.
What are some of your favorite childhood food memories?
Category: Kids & Food
About the Author (Author Profile)
With a flair for spontaneity, pizzazz, creative excellence and her own unique sense of aesthetic grace and perspective, we have our very dear friend, Belinda (or B, to some of us). Although an incredibly accomplished professional and career woman, B’s down-to-earth approach and demeanor transcends all scenarios, communities and people. She manifests, in her day-to-day, the essence of the word “Zomppa” as demonstrated by her extraordinary commitment to creating sustainable and positive change for us and future generations to come. She’s asked for a dog every year since she was five. Check out Belinda’s work on global education research and coaching: www.hummingbirdrcc.com or more about her portfolio www.belindachiu.com.Comments (4)
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- Dancing Dimsum | Zomppa - Food, Meet People | October 19, 2009
I love that you shared this, and that your parents kept the story. Sweet! My first food memory occurs around when my brother was born (I was 2)–my great aunt took me out for fast food (first time), and then to the hospital. I’m certain I’ve reconstructed and restructured the memory so it’s different than reality, but wow! To remember him arriving in this world just makes me happy.
You wrote like that at 7?! I write like that TODAY and I a heck of a lot older than! Genius! Super cute story, B….that is really great that your parents kept that. Reminds me to keep all of my kids things…even though I’m running out of room!!!
Fast food and little brothers go great together!