|And each of the eight brothers had a sister . . .|
My Mom had eight brothers.
And each of them had a sister.
Most of the time, this was a good thing.
They played together.
And when someone put a banana peel down Mom's back at school, they 'protected' her.
It was a good balance.
Being the only other female on the farm meant work, however.
Besides helping with things outdoors, she had indoor chores.
Cooking, cleaning, dishes.
Those 'invisible' things that go unnoticed until they don't get done.
Of all of them, the most entertaining was always the laundry.
You never knew what you would find . . .
There was one very firm rule in the Berg household.
You cleaned your plate at mealtime.
Much of the food was produced on the farm and Grandpa Berg took a very dim view of any of it being wasted.
Each of the sons, and the daughter, had to show an empty plate before they were allowed to leave.
If they had been served something they didn't like, they had to eat it anyways.
Or get creative.
Uncle Leif, the youngest of the brothers, got creative.
He knew that those vegetables and potatoes he had been staring at had to go somewhere.
He just didn't want them inside of him.
What to do?
No dog or pet was allowed inside the house, so one couldn't slip food to them under the table.
His parents would notice any significant quantity of food simply thrown on the floor.
His options were definitely limited.
But he would think of something . . .
When Mom and Grandma Berg were doing the laundry, it was Mom's responsibility to turn out the pockets on the boy's trousers.
Inevitably, it was an entertaining enterprize.
Especially when they got to Uncle Leif's.
Because that was when they discovered what had been done with those unwanted and totally unnecessary vegetables and potatoes.
While he had been sitting there, contemplating, he had come up with the most ingenius and inventive method of making them disappear.
He was wearing trousers.
And they had . . . pockets.
What followed was inevitable. And a no-brainer.
Back in the laundry, Mom turned out each pocket to discover little, dried up memories of yesterday's dinner.
And, as I said, entertaining.
And that's just the laundry.
Imagine what he could do with such things as . . . bedrooms. Chores.
But that is another story.