Imagination seems to be a dying faculty among children these days. Their entertainment comes ready made. Video games, TV, and the Internet provide what earlier generations of kids once created themselves.
When my sister Diane learned how to make Chicken Noodle soup, she and I would pretend that the stove was the control panel of our space ship. As the soup simmered, we made up imaginary perils and pretended to turn the knobs of the chrome-topped appliance. Once the soup was ready, we pretended we had landed on Mars. Then Mom dished out our lunch.
I forget who came up with the idea but we drank the soup through plastic straws. One of us children discovered that if a noodle was sucked up the straw, it made a funny noise. This resulted in both of us laughing hysterically. Mom rebuked us for making a mess but she didn’t confiscate our straws.
It’s a shame Mom gave away that gas stove. It was a beautiful appliance. I could have used it when I moved to my present house too. I suspect such a stove would be worth a fair bit to a collector of fifties-era appliances. For me, the pleasant memories of childhood fun would be enough value.
Though I haven’t written about my early years in a book as of yet, I did write about being sent to a school for the blind in Vancouver, British Columbia. Deliverance from Jericho: Six Years in a Blind School and my debut memoir are available from the Bruce Atchison’s books page. My How I Was Razed: A Journey from Cultism to Christianity e-book and paperback are on sale at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Virtual Bookworm Publishers.