I think back to my pre-adolescent days. I was in 4th grade, and we had a candy sale approaching. A candy sale was where 1 classroom would have each of the students bring in goods to sell, and the other classes would take turns coming in to buy aforementioned goods. Everyone was happy. Each class could have a fundraiser, and the other classes could enjoy the treats brought in.
As I recall, my teacher asked if any of us had contacts to purchase wholesale candy to sell at retail. I knew my Uncle Paul sold candy and bags of chips at his roadside tavern, but I didn’t think I was in a position to negotiate his rates for the benefit of my class. So I forgot about the whole matter.
Until about 4 am, the day of the sale. I had not made any arrangements for my share of donations. I was troubled at this for a few moments, but then I remembered my favorite dessert had been made recently by my mother, and I thought, “I could do that.”
I got up and went through the recipe file, filled with collected recipes from both grandmothers, my mother, as well as ones my father had secured in his creative sleuthing ways from his contacts. I found it almost immediately, for it is one that I recognized every time it was brought out for use.
So by 4:30 am, I began gathering ingredients and mixing them to make my contribution. I must not have been as quiet as I thought I was (I blame the electric mixer), for my father appeared at the bottom of the steps, although it was just to use the bathroom. I’m guessing he squealed on me, as Mom appeared within a minute of him returning upstairs.
I told my incredulous mother of my plight (and solution), and she offered to take over (partly to do them right, partly because she likely fretted over my lack of sleep, and likely, probably because she could better control the collateral damage done to her kitchen in the wee hours of the morning). I knew that I was better at building plastic model cars than she, and she was indeed better at food preparation than I. So, it made perfect sense to me that we should each play to our strengths.
It didn’t occur to me until quite recently, that there is a marked difference between a candy sale and a bake sale. I didn’t care. The cherry love bars weren’t a big hit there, so I was able to return with (most of) the rest after the school day ended.
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