Four and One Half Minutes

Occasionally, I revist some extraordinary, wonderful childhood delights.

Tonight was such an occasion.

I boiled plain tap water (not filtered) over the gas stove's open flame (not microwave)

I stirred in regular 5 minute Quaker Oats Oatmeal (not instant).

I watched the butter (not margarine) slowly melt.

I swirled the melted butter with raw, farm honey (not store bought).

I laced in lumpy, dark brown sugar (not calorie free)

I poured in dairy milk (not skim or fat free) on top.

Then, I stirred and stirred.

It swirled and swirled.

I tased my oatmeal.

The taste was thick, sweet and rich.

I relished in the same, magical delight I remembered as a child.

The symphony of tastes exploded in my mouth.

I smelled the aroma and envisioned my memories of my mother toiling over her stove as I closed my eyes.

I'm happy I'm not a child today.

Instant, artificially flavored, artificially sweetened oatmeal topped with cholesterol free margarine and skim milk popped out of a 30 second microwave oven just doesn't seem to be the same to me.

I'm amazed what four and one-half minutes can really say.

7 December 1992
Audobon Oaks
Lafayette, Louisiana