My DNA was showing
Mom and I went to a book signing on Saturday. It was given by an author who also happened to be in my 10th grade English class and Math class. At the time, this future author, and future college professor of English, was a rebellious punk rocker. He had a band with a bad name even. And he wrote bad things in my 11th grade yearbook. (But I thought he was cool)
Too bad my name didn't ring a bell for him. Sigh. Oh well. I always figured I was unremarkable and utterly forgettable. (said in a way as to show you that I am at peace with the fact)
ANYWAY.
After I got my book signed, Mom and I tottered off to the deli part of the Scandinavian gift store where the book reading and signing was held. It was a small space with what seemed like a healthy population of patrons.
The deli part of the store offered head cheese (Jenni-Dear Old Mr. Dunderbeck should come to mind), Swedish meatball mix, pickled herring, lefse, and all manner of other Scandinavian delicacies. I wanted Kavli and lefse, and Mom got some Swedish meatball mix, lingonberry preserves, cloudberry preserves, two boxes of Kavli and maybe something else, I can't remember.
What made the purchase remarkable was that the butcher/cashier remarked on how much we looked like each other. Usually it's my sister who gets the "you look just like your mother" comments; me not so much (only one time that I can ever remember), even though I have always wanted to look like my mother. I said I rarely hear that, and he said, "Oh yeah, you look just like her." That made up for Mr. Author/former bad boy punk rocker not remembering me.
Too bad my name didn't ring a bell for him. Sigh. Oh well. I always figured I was unremarkable and utterly forgettable. (said in a way as to show you that I am at peace with the fact)
ANYWAY.
After I got my book signed, Mom and I tottered off to the deli part of the Scandinavian gift store where the book reading and signing was held. It was a small space with what seemed like a healthy population of patrons.
The deli part of the store offered head cheese (Jenni-Dear Old Mr. Dunderbeck should come to mind), Swedish meatball mix, pickled herring, lefse, and all manner of other Scandinavian delicacies. I wanted Kavli and lefse, and Mom got some Swedish meatball mix, lingonberry preserves, cloudberry preserves, two boxes of Kavli and maybe something else, I can't remember.
What made the purchase remarkable was that the butcher/cashier remarked on how much we looked like each other. Usually it's my sister who gets the "you look just like your mother" comments; me not so much (only one time that I can ever remember), even though I have always wanted to look like my mother. I said I rarely hear that, and he said, "Oh yeah, you look just like her." That made up for Mr. Author/former bad boy punk rocker not remembering me.
Comments
Love your little Scandanavian deli story. Very sweet and a nice tribute to your mom just in time for mother's day. Bonus points!
Paul and Hayley look "JUST" like you and they are mighty fine lookin'.
Sounded like a nice Saturday activity anyway.