The last thing we had to do every day in Mrs. Irelan’s kindergarten class oh-so-long-ago was put our chairs up on the tables, to make it easier on the custodians when they came in to sweep up later in the evening. That thought hadn’t crossed my mind for many years until I walked into the store this afternoon and saw this scene in our classroom . . .
Suddenly, I was five years old again. Once in a while, a sight or an aroma will take me back to a scene from my childhood. A couple of years ago, I was in a restaurant after setup for a show. I was following the hostess to my table when I stopped dead in my tracks. I had just gotten a whiff of fried chicken, and for an instant I was back in my grandma’s kitchen on Sunday afternoon. Must have been just the right blend of seasonings, because I have smelled fried chicken many times since Grandma died in 1977, and none of them affected me like that.
Guess what I ordered . . .