no place like home: Trifecta

Years ago, my Aunt Bridgette met an American soldier and moved to California. She would write my grandmother a few letters, mostly bragging about her wealthy lifestyle and her rich husband. My grandmother was never impressed with her snobby sister, and the letters were seldom read.

Nearly fourty years after she left, Bridgette decided to pay her relatives in Newfoundland a visit. She called ahead so that the family could prepare for her arrival. She instructed everyone that she no longer enjoyed boring food she ate as a child, and that the family had better ensure that proper food was prepared.. My grandmother made a pot of baked beans and molasses, and a few buns of white bread. Everyone was excited to dig into the food, more excited perhaps, than the visitor who requested the ‘fancy’ food.

When Bridgette stepped into the house, dressed in her fur coat and patent leather shoes, she became faint. My grandmother,  being the older  sister, rushed to her rescue and sat her sister at the table. When she came  to, she turned  up her nose at the food. My grandmother explained how she slaved over the stove for hours to make this meal, and the reply she got from her spoiled sister was ‘How quaint!’. With that, using a fork and a knife, Bridgette cut one bean in two and ate it. She then left the table and went to her room.

“Well, how about that? She certainly changed! When she was a kid,  she could clean the entire  pot in one  sitting!” My grandmother recalled.

The next morning, when the kids got up for a baked beans and fried egg breakfast, they were surprised to find that the entire pot of beans was gone. Bridgette was found sleeping on the chair, bean sauce all over her face.  My grandmother said “Well, ain’t that quaint, too stuck up to eat in front of us, but still as greedy as when she was young.”

this is my entry into this week’s Trifecta Challenge. The word is ‘Quaint’.

10 thoughts on “no place like home: Trifecta

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