It was published in 1950, by a home economics board in Chicago that no longer exists. My son discovered it today and spent hours delighted by the whimsical line drawings.
"Why does the mama have her hat and gloves on to cook?"
"Well, see her coat and handbag on the kitchen chair? She just came home, and is in a hurry to make dinner."
"Why is the cat watching her?"
"It probably wants something to eat."
"Why was the mama in such a hurry? Where was she?"
"Oh, probably playing bridge, or frequenting one of the taverns on South State street looking for...or shopping. She was probably out shopping."
(Turning page)
"Who is the man?"
"He's the butcher. See, she's telling him to keep his finger off the scale..."*
And Later:
"What's that?"
"A waffle iron."
"What's a waffle?"
"Like a pancake, with indentations."
(Blank stare).
"How?"
"Well, first the mama mixes up some batter (pretend to mix batter) then she pours it in a waffle iron and puts the lid down (motion of closing lid). It goes, "sizzle, sizzle, sizzle and then...POOF! Then the mama yells, "Oh crap! We blew a fuse again. So the papa trudges down to the cellar and replaces the fuse and yells upstairs to the mama, "OK?!" and then she yells back down the stairs, "Yes, thank you." and she finishes making the waffles which then stick to the iron because in her haste she forgot to grease it."
(Blank stare from Danny)
"Hear it again?"
Later still:
"Have some waffles?"
"I don't own a waffle iron."
"Parfaits then? I'm only hungry enough to eat parfaits."
Which is a good thing, as I don't do waffles.
*True story. My dad once sent my sister to the butcher shop to pick something up and told her to tell him, "Keep your finger off the scale" which she proceeded to do, much to my mother's horror upon hearing about it.
"Why does the mama have her hat and gloves on to cook?"
"Well, see her coat and handbag on the kitchen chair? She just came home, and is in a hurry to make dinner."
"Why is the cat watching her?"
"It probably wants something to eat."
"Why was the mama in such a hurry? Where was she?"
"Oh, probably playing bridge, or frequenting one of the taverns on South State street looking for...or shopping. She was probably out shopping."
(Turning page)
"Who is the man?"
"He's the butcher. See, she's telling him to keep his finger off the scale..."*
And Later:
"What's that?"
"A waffle iron."
"What's a waffle?"
"Like a pancake, with indentations."
(Blank stare).
"How?"
"Well, first the mama mixes up some batter (pretend to mix batter) then she pours it in a waffle iron and puts the lid down (motion of closing lid). It goes, "sizzle, sizzle, sizzle and then...POOF! Then the mama yells, "Oh crap! We blew a fuse again. So the papa trudges down to the cellar and replaces the fuse and yells upstairs to the mama, "OK?!" and then she yells back down the stairs, "Yes, thank you." and she finishes making the waffles which then stick to the iron because in her haste she forgot to grease it."
(Blank stare from Danny)
"Hear it again?"
Later still:
"Have some waffles?"
"I don't own a waffle iron."
"Parfaits then? I'm only hungry enough to eat parfaits."
Which is a good thing, as I don't do waffles.
*True story. My dad once sent my sister to the butcher shop to pick something up and told her to tell him, "Keep your finger off the scale" which she proceeded to do, much to my mother's horror upon hearing about it.
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