In every large family I am sure there are a lot of traditions..In ours, this is one of them.
There are a lot of memories I had of growing up in a large family, with me being the oldest of nine children..I remember us getting in the car on Saturdays and driving to the White Caste hamburger place. Those of us each had a
5 for .25 coupon which always came out in the local newspaper each Thursday or Friday. Neighbors would give Mom a few of their coupons, as they didn't like the hamburgers and knew we did...We would them hold our hamburger bags, closed tightly, all the way home, just taking in the aroma of that smell.
Sewer lids, or manhole covers, as we would call them later on as we were older..They tasted so good..Most of us got no pickles on ours, and Mom always
got lots of pickles on the side.
The house smelled like a White Castle restaurant for a couple of days afterwards.
Another thing we enjoyed doing and
liked, was taking a drive early on Sunday morning, after Church, to a place called Patsy Ann's Cookies, where you could buy a bag of cookies for .50.(most
were broken cookies, but we didn't care,
they were still fresh and good)and we had them for after lunch..
The favorite for most of us was the
weekly Sunday night penny candy bags..
Every Sunday, around 5:30pm, Dad would drive up to the local bar and grocery
store to get some bread, milk or whatever Mom needed at that time..He would also get his jug filled halfway with his beer, and then pick out ten different kinds of penny candy times how
many kids at home were able to eat the
candy..then the owner always gave him
the same amount of little brown bags as the number of children receiving the candy, and Dad would come home. The owners of the bar were good friends of Dad and Mom, and they enjoyed his picking out of the candies..
As soon as Dad came home, he went into the kitchen.That was the sign for all of
us children who would be receiving the candy bags to go sit on the couch, and chairs, or floor, quietly and listen.
We listened to him dumping the bag of
candy on the kitchen table. Then the
opening of each of the little candy bags, then we would listen to him count each piece into each bag, making sure the counted to 10 in each bag, and that
there were enough bags..Then he made one
for Mom. We knew it held chocolate candy
only, her favorite.
We waited patiently until he called for
us to come and get our candy. We tried
to be orderly as we all ran for the
kitchen. My one brother was always first.
He had long legs and arms. After we all
had our bags, we went back to the living
room, where we all sat down and explored
our contents of our bags..Of course we
all knew we all had exactly the same thing, but we still looked, to be sure.
We had Mary Janes, licorice(black and red) flying saucers, candy cigarettes(both chocolate and white,)
candy buttons on a strip, mini french chews(choc,van. or strawberry) banana splits, BB bats, slo-poke suckers, and lots of other kinds of candy which I can describe, but do not remember their names.We never ever got gum, because that was a no-no in our house..
Dad sat in his easy chair, with his own glass of beer and peanuts(which we children were not allowed to steal) and
Mom ate her chocolate, and we all laughed and talked, and sometime we played a game called I diddley diddley
I can see something you can't see, and the color of it is....and we would say a
color and everybody would try and guess
what it was, and the one who guessed it correct, got their turn next..of course
some in the family kinda changed their
objects in mid-steam, so to speak, so they could be it longer..all in all, it
was a true family night and tradition..
One time, when I was about 22, I had come home to stay for a few months, in
order to save up some extra money to move into a nicer apartment. My son was three years old at this time, and was with me..Sunday night came, and my Dad went to the store, and when he came back
he went straight to the kitchen..all of us knew what that meant. We all patiently waited, knowing the routine, and then he called us to come out to the kitchen. He handed my brothers and sisters their bags, and when my turn came, he said he didn't have one for me,as I was too old and didn't really live at home, etc..but he did have one for my son..I thought he was joking, but he wasn't..I broke down and started crying, and he called Mom into the kitchen. She tried to console me, but I just could not comprehend a Sunday night without a candy bag since I was staying there, and my son got one, but not me.
In later years, this was always brought up at family get-to-gethers..How I cried at not getting a candy bag..I keep telling them all that it was a tradition, I was still part of the family,etc..Maybe I will never grow up
when I talk about this subject, as it
still brings some tears to my eyes just
writing this..memories are all I have now. How about you out there. Ever experience a Sunday Night Candy Night?