Meatball Madness

Last night I made my mom's recipe for Italian Meatballs, a recipe that I haven't used in a long time. It brought back a really funny memory of my Dad, actually.

When I was younger, my Mom would go away for a weekend on a Women's Retreat with the women from our church (those of you who attended Bethlehem with me will appreciate this story). It was the weekend we hated to see come... the weekend where mom would be gone. It wasn't that we didn't love spending time with Dad...it was that we knew mom was off having the time of her life (and deservedly so) and we were not... we were at home.

While Mom was away, Dad made sure we were fed, bathed, clothed and behaving ourselves. My Dad even cooked for us while she was gone which, looking back, is impressive considering he could have opted for the McDonald's down the street. But, my Dad went the extra mile. One night while Mom was away, Dad felt impressed to make us spaghetti and meatballs. Sounds reasonable enough. Most kids enjoy that meal and we certainly were known for eating it when Mom made it.

So, we eagerly went to the dinner table when called, only to find 10 HUGE meatballs on each of our plates (It's definitely the Sicilian in him. Grandma was like this too. Mangia, Mangia) Now.. I was maybe 7 or 8 at the time and at most could put down 2, maybe 3 meatballs tops. There were 10 on my plate.

"Dad, I can't eat 10 meatballs. I usually only eat 2 - 3"
"You will NOT leave this table until you finish your plate"
"But Dad, Mom never makes me eat that many..."
"You will eat them all"
"But.."
"Eat"

I must have sat there for hours that night. I was a picky eater to begin with...but 10 meatballs was out of my reach. I think he finally let me go after eating 4. I don't remember how my brother and sister did. But, it was a long night.

Dad, I know you read this blog. I totally appreciate the fact that you took such good care of us (and you still do). You're the best!