Three Sisters Podcast: Brand-new episode four!

Here's our longsuffering Mom, me, Anne, and Mollie.

Here’s our longsuffering Mom, me, Anne, and Mollie.

It was a tremendous day when our sister Mollie was born.  Mom and Dad traveled from Nelson to Lincoln to the hospital there to have her, and then a few days later our brave Dad trundled all the rest of us (Mark, Anne, Matt, and me) into the car and took us to the hospital, to visit our baby sister.  It was Christmas Eve.

I’m sure our excitement level knew no bounds, and it must have been a trial for our dad to endure it all the way to Lincoln (a trip of over two hours).  Our excitement was based on two events:  1.  We’d meet our new baby sister (surely Mom and Dad kept the best for last!) and 2. We were going to eat fast food on our way home.  What a thrill!  We only got to eat Mom’s excellent home cooking, every day, three times a day.  Greasy hamburgers and salty fries were not 0n our menu, ever.

Of course little Mollie was the most beautiful baby on the planet.  She was rosy and round-faced and had a shock of dark hair.  We couldn’t wait to take her home, but this was in the days of prolonged hospital stays for new mothers and babies, so after we admired our baby sister for as long as the hospital staff could stand us, we piled in the car to head for our promised fast food dinner!  We were so thrilled!  It was Christmas Eve.

Back in those days, fast food restaurants didn’t stay open twenty-four hours a day.  Back in those days, everything closed down for holidays.  Those were good ole’ days, eh?

Did I mention that it was Christmas Eve?  Yes.  To to our crushing disappointment, every fast food joint was closed up tight, by the time we headed out to look for dinner.

We were disappointed.  The only bright spot in the whole story (other than having a new baby sister!) was that our Uncle Harry (bless him) had given us a Christmas fruitcake at the hospital, and we had it with us in the car.  I daresay it was probably a fruitcake from the Collins Street Bakery in Corsicana, Texas.  Although this good of a fruitcake deserves respect and honor, we tore into it like ravenous wolves, eating it in jaggedy chunks, out-of-hand.  To make matters worse, nary a glass of milk or a cup of strong coffee was in sight.

I’m sure that fruitcake kept us from sure and sudden starvation, and so I still have a soft spot for these fruitcakes.  Evidently my sisters Anne and Mollie do too, as I found out in our podcast yesterday.  We touched on many other topics, too.  Listen to it here!

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