Stories from the Stringam Family Ranches of Southern Alberta

From the 50s and 60s to today . . .



Tuesday, May 22, 2012

Onion Warfare


You see food. We see . . .

Yesterday’s blog reminded my Husby of something.
If you haven’t read that post yet, you can do it here.
Then we’ll all be on the same page.
So to speak.
Ready?
Moving on . . .
In Grant’s small community, Church socials were a highlight.
Tables groaning with delicious food.
And best friends.
An eight-year-old boy’s finest moments.
But once the ‘eating contests’ and trips to the dessert table had reached a point that even eight-year-old boys are satiated, what’s next?
Well, there’s always . . . imagination and creativity.
And, trust me, when boys are that age, the ceiling’s the limit.
Quite literally.
Grant and his cronies had stuffed themselves.
The only things left on their slicked-clean plates were little pickled onions.
That no small boy would be caught eating.
Ever.
One of them picked up a small onion and put it on his spoon.
The others watched, horrified.
Was he really going to . . .?
He turned his spoon and . . . flipped it.
The onion shot across the table.
Landing with a small, wet ‘sploop’ (made up word – but expressive).
Everyone stared.
Hey! That looked like fun!
Instantly, four small onions were placed on four small spoons.
Flick.
Four little, pickled projectiles shot off in different directions.
It was fun!
“Let’s go for distance!”
Four more onions.
Four more spoons.
Flick.
“Mine went further! Mine went further!”
“Let’s go for height!”
“Wait, we need provisions!”
A short raid on the pickle platter.
As astonished parents looked on.
Then:
Four more onions.
“Ready?”
Flick.
“Oh, wow! Look at how high Grant’s went!”
Grant’s did achieve more height.
And, because of that, greater distance.
It shot across the room and landed in the plate of a man seated opposite.
A man who was still visiting and eating.
And not really noticing what was on his plate.
The unsuspecting man speared the onion and popped it into his mouth.
Chewing happily.
Never knowing where the onion had come from.
The four small boys crowed with delight.
It was the highlight of their evening.
Vainly, they tried to duplicate the feat.
Raining little onion balls down on unsuspecting heads.
Finally, one of their little missiles actually . . . hit . . . someone.
Game over.
Instantly.
After that, the little pickled onions, which had usually sat forlorn and forgotten on the buffet table, were the first to go.
What doesn’t disappear into the mouth, will still . . . disappear.
Ask any small boy.

12 comments:

  1. And this post makes me think of your hubby catapulting chocolate balls at your grandkids. Oh what fun you all have.

    I'm still trying to figure out how those astonished parents allowed that to continue- and hoping it was an outdoor get together instead of indoor, lol.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I guess some people never grow up . . . :)
      The funny thing was that they were in the Church Gym. I've often wondered how their parents missed the goings on. Particularly after multiple trips to the pickle tray for more projectiles.

      Delete
  2. I knew those miserable little things were good for something.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. You should come and have dinner with us. You'd find all sort of uses for food . . .

      Delete
  3. Mt brother-in-law actually eats those little pearly bits. As in, he likes them. A good side of olives goes down well with him, too. I won't tell him what little boys can do.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Keep your brother away from our arsenal! Truth to be told, I like them too. And olives. Especially those stuffed with *gasp* garlic!

      Delete
  4. lol nice way to distribute onions lol

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Impartial. Practical. Effective. Who says little boys haven't got it all figured out?!

      Delete
  5. Replies
    1. Anything can be turned into a game. Or a weapon . . .

      Delete
  6. When I was young I loved those little onions. Trouble was, when I got old they didn't taste so good. But I don't think I ever used them for ammo.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. See? You still haven't done everything!!!

      Delete

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