One cold winter day a very long time ago, when I was just three years old, I was sitting on the floor playing with my baby doll. Her name was Emily; she had blue eyes and brown hair, just like me. I loved her very much; I was her mama and she was my baby.
All of a sudden, I heard a great, big, scary noise that sounded like a grrrrowwlll.
“Oh, no,” I said to my mama, “What is that noise?”
My mom was sweeping the floor. She stopped sweeping and stood very still so she could listen. “I do not hear anything,” she said.
Running to her side, I told her, “Listen, Mama, listen.”
Then she began to laugh and said, “It’s all right, Sweetheart. It is just your tummy making noise; it is telling you that you are hungry. How would you like a spoonful of peanut butter? Here comes your big brother. He can get it for you.” Mama told my big brother to get me a spoonful of peanut butter.
Big brother didn’t want to stop what he was doing, so he said, “I don’t want to; I’m too busy.”
Mama didn’t take that kind of talk, so she said to him, “Do it right now, young man.”
Of course, he did what she told him to do. “Okay, come on, kid.” I followed him to the kitchen. I was too short to see over the counter, so I stood by his side while he got the peanut butter for me. He was looking very sneaky when he said, “Here you go, Sis, eat up.”
I said, “Thank you,” and took a big bite. “Yuck! Yuck! Wahhh!” I began to cry. Mom came running.
“What did you do?” she demanded.
My brother was trying not to laugh as I stood there crying with bacon grease instead of peanut butter dripping from my chin. Taking the spoon of grease, my mama handed it to him and said, “Eat up, Son. All of it.” He was a big boy, but he knew he had to eat it. He made the most awful face as he gagged and choked and swallowed. I felt sorry for him.
Mama set me on the counter in order to clean my face, and then she got me a real spoonful of peanut butter. Yum, Yum.
My brother never did that again.