Thoughts about Nostalgic Sunday:
When I was a young girl, Sundays meant going to Mass. Sometimes my mom made homemade donuts after we got home. That was a special treat. Other times, we had bacon and eggs, or pancakes. No plain old cold cereal on a Sunday. (We never went out to eat for breakfast! Whoever heard of such a thing?! In fact when I was really young, I'm pretty sure the only times we ate out was when we were on summer vacations, and stopped at those roadside restaurants. That, too, was special.)
Sundays meant the "funny papers" or just the "funnies." Even when I was too young to read, I still loved to lie on the floor and look at all the colorful drawings, trying to figure out what each little story was about.
Sunday evenings also meant certain TV shows: The Ed Sullivan Show. The Wonderful World of Disney. Lassie. I wasn't very old when I'd already figured out that Lassie lived with a bunch of not-too-smart humans. (Whenever our previous dog, Tiger-Gal, would bark at us because she obviously wanted something, The Ronald and I would say to her, "What is it girl? Is it Timmy? What?? He fell down the well?! OMG!")
And that brings me to the submission I sent Friday evening to Chicken Soup for the Soul. It's the humorous story about our first dog, Rocky, and his encounter with a houseplant. ☺
(I Can't Believe My Dog Did That!)
"Now, Andy, before you go traipsing around the country on any manhunt, you come along home and have dinner first." -- Aunt Bee