When I was very young, young enough that I only remember snippets of memories, I can see a scene of me in a kitchen dining area of a white painted Iowa farm house. This house was your typical farm house surrounded by a few trees edged by fields of corn. There were people all around in the house. My parents were there, I can see the faces of my aunt, uncle, and my cousins, all the while there was laughter in this crowed space as the smell of a well cooked meal filled the air. But what stands out most in my memory is my aunt yelling to her oldest son, the oldest of us Winkelman grandchildren, "Roger, wash your hands Roger! It's time for supper."
The remarkable part of this long ago glance into my childhood memories is that to this day, when it is supper time, I will yell to my son's and my husband, "wash your hands Roger, it's supper time", even when none of them are really named Roger.
Happy Thursday everyone, and remember to wash your hands before supper time!
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