Neither of us could fry catfish like she could. We both knew that. My mom used fish fry, and I was inexperienced, but the eldest, wisest one of our trio used cornmeal which she seasoned to perfection every time...without measuring. We definitely wanted her to cook the fish. So we put on a show...
Me: Mama! Can you please cook some fish? I really want some fish.
Mama: Nope. You better do it yourself.
Me: Please Mama! Doesn't fish sound good?
Mama: I'm not frying any fish tonight, Kechia. It does sound good though...
Me: But I just made it home...Didn't you miss me? I've been gone for months. I missed you. I certainly missed home-cooked meals.
This happened in December of 2011. Of course, I don't remember what we said verbatim, but it was something along the above lines. My mom and I went back and forth until she finally stepped in.
Grandma: I'll cook y'all some fish.
Without saying a word, my Mom and I celebrated. We would have Grandma's fish.
As we were sitting, eating our beautifully fried, perfectly seasoned fish, the eldest and youngest of the trio synched up.
Grandma: I'd sure like a pint of strawberry ice cream.
Me: Oooohhh Grandma! That sounds so good...Blue Bell...Mmmmh hmmmm...Sure does sound good.
Grandma: Yes it does, Baby. You know I love strawberry ice cream.
My Grandma and I went on and on about ice cream and Blue Bell until finally my mom, who had not participated in the conversation, spoke up. "I'll go get some ice cream."
Without saying a word, my Grandma and I celebrated. We would have Blue Bell ice cream.
The semester had recently ended. It went well. I hadn't been home long. I was up late, hanging out with my Mom and Grandma, being spoiled. My belly was full, and I was about to get a late night dessert. And to top it all off, we were watching Corrina, Corrina. Life was good...
My mom returns with three pints of ice cream from the convenient store.
"Kechia, that ice cream was four dollars a pint, and you paid for it."
She smirked...We had all won.
