Page One Hundred Sixty-Eight.
Well, the kid is back in my life.
Just to get you all up to speed, last summer, June of 2013, I was hired for a short-term gig cooking for a 15 year old boy a couple of times per week. Shem lost both of his parents a couple years ago to drugs and alcohol. He was taken in by his mother's best friend and promptly began acting up. He's a particularly charming and kind-hearted kid but, predictably, very angry. The area where he consistently acted out the most was food. The Foster mom, Deb, is an older women and former hippie who's single, vegetarian and admittedly no kind of cook. All the kid's food would become take-out or frozen. To be sure, it was good quality, but no kind of home-cooking. And home cooking is what he really craved. When the parents were sober they were apparently good cooks, especially the dad. The kid has euphoric memories of that food and romanticizes it. So, of all the things for him to raise hell about with Deb, it's food. (For the complete back story on this situation, you can read my blog: pages 97; 98; 99; 106 and 125 if desired.)
So last June, Deb called me. We're long-time acquaintances but she didn't realize until talking with some mutual friends that this type of job is right up my alley. I proceeded to cook for him a few times per week until he left for summer camp a month later. We had a shaky start but but then became good pals. After returning from camp, he moved in with one of his two older brothers. The oldest is in and out of jail; he's very much duplicating the pattern of their parents. Middle brother lives with his girlfriend one building away from Deb. He's in mostly good shape. He's in school studying pre-law and is reasonably stable. So the kid moved in with him long-term. Yeah, right.
Older brother didn't put up with the kid's crap. Also, girlfriend's younger brother lived with them as well. (I don't know that story. Some things are just none of my business. But I'll probably eventually hear it anyhow.) So it was one crowded apartment, and filled with two teenage boys and two very young twenty-somethings to boot. Golly gosh gee, how homey and cozy! So the kid wanted to move back in with Deb which he did last month. But she put her foot down and changed some of the rules. He's mostly been abiding by the new constitution but still raises hell about the food. Deb never phoned me because she thought that I was busy with other gigs, particularly the family for whom I cooked and nannied during the last few years. She didn't realize that they didn't resume me after their boys got back from summer camp this last autumn.
So I had a holiday gathering last weekend and invited Deb. We got to talking and so forth. Long story short, she phoned me this morning after speaking with the kid and wants to rehire me long-term, four days per week.
This 15 year old kid is going to have his own personal chef making his dinners and school lunches. Must be nice.
The fact is, It'll be good for him and me. I have EXTENSIVE experience working with troubled and at-risk youth and he did come to trust me and told me so. He consistently refuses counseling which the school and Deb are not happy about at all. Yet, he did tell me a certain amount of his business. The fact is, there are certain things I'm good at and kids are one of them. I have a former brother-in-law you used to refer to me as a child psychologist. Though I don't have the sheepskin to prove it, I am really good at dealing with those little monsters know as children. This blog isn't named How To Cook Children* for nothing.
And it'll be good for me 'cause I need the cash. I'm busy looking for one full-time job right now as I'm getting sort of sick of the multiple part-time gigs. I've done that for a while and it's wearing thin. But a little extra money in the meantime is a happy thing. And who knows how long before I find a job anyhow. I'm trying to get into corporate event planning here in Cleveland. The jobs definitely exist but getting them is hard. So, anything to pay the rent in the meantime... (If you know anybody in corporate event planning here in Cleveland or anybody in a related field, please feel free to pass along my name. I'll be in your eternal debt. I'll mail you some homemade Chicken Paprikash.)
*Nutritious Food They'll Eat
Showing posts with label Teenaged Boys. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Teenaged Boys. Show all posts
Friday, December 13, 2013
Wednesday, March 13, 2013
On Learning to Make Cinnamon Bread
Page Forty-Eight.
One day in about '91, I was sitting in the Shapiro's kitchen trying to figure out what to eat. I wasn't having much luck. Have you ever been there? You know you're hungry, but with the Lord as your witness you just don't know what you're hungry for. So you just sit and hope that some form of food items screams out your name. Well it wasn't happening.
In walks Skedaddle. He must've been fifteen or so. He looked at me and noticed my disability. "What's wrong with you?"
"I'm hungry, but I don't know what to eat."
"Hmm. That is a problem." He proceeded to do whatever it was he'd come into the kitchen for. After a moment or two he said, "I know. How about having some Cinnamon Bread."
I contemplated that for a long moment. "That's a good idea. I haven't had that in a long time."
"Good."
So, innocently enough, I started making my cinnamon bread. I toasted the white bread, spread it with butter and lightly sprinkled on some sugar and then some cinnamon.
"What are you doing?"
"What'do'yo mean. I'm making cinnamon toast like you suggested."
"You're not making it right.Here lemme show you." With that, he grabbed the sugar and just poured it on. Then, he grabbed the cinnamon and poured it on. "Now, this is how to make Cinnamon Bread."
"Thish ish good. " I said in between mouth fulls.
"I told you."
The next time you make Cinnamon Bread, add WAY too much sugar and cinnamon. It'll be just right.
One day in about '91, I was sitting in the Shapiro's kitchen trying to figure out what to eat. I wasn't having much luck. Have you ever been there? You know you're hungry, but with the Lord as your witness you just don't know what you're hungry for. So you just sit and hope that some form of food items screams out your name. Well it wasn't happening.
In walks Skedaddle. He must've been fifteen or so. He looked at me and noticed my disability. "What's wrong with you?"
"I'm hungry, but I don't know what to eat."
"Hmm. That is a problem." He proceeded to do whatever it was he'd come into the kitchen for. After a moment or two he said, "I know. How about having some Cinnamon Bread."
I contemplated that for a long moment. "That's a good idea. I haven't had that in a long time."
"Good."
So, innocently enough, I started making my cinnamon bread. I toasted the white bread, spread it with butter and lightly sprinkled on some sugar and then some cinnamon.
"What are you doing?"
"What'do'yo mean. I'm making cinnamon toast like you suggested."
"You're not making it right.Here lemme show you." With that, he grabbed the sugar and just poured it on. Then, he grabbed the cinnamon and poured it on. "Now, this is how to make Cinnamon Bread."
"Thish ish good. " I said in between mouth fulls.
"I told you."
The next time you make Cinnamon Bread, add WAY too much sugar and cinnamon. It'll be just right.
Wednesday, December 26, 2012
Spanky
Page Fifteen.
The Shapiro twins, Scoot and Skedaddle, had a best friend, Spanky, who lived down the street. Spanky was a darling blonde boy who may as well have been a fourth son in our house for all the time he spent over. Spanky had an older brother whom I really didn't know but his parents and I were quite friendly.
When Spanky and the twins were in about the tenth or eleventh grade I received a phone call from his mom. "Jeremy, would you consider staying with Spanky for a couple of weeks, next month, while we go away on a trip?" Seems that Stephanie had already called Lena Shapiro to make sure it would be okay to steal me for a couple of weeks. They'd agreed that I could sleep over Spanky's and tuck him into bed at night no problemo. The only complications on the Shapiro end would be when I had to do my usual things back at their ranch: the family laundry and light house-keeping, both of which they felt could be done anytime during the day; and feeding the boys on Mondays and Thursdays which I could do as usual and simply tow Spanky along.
Stephanie further explained that I was the "compromise." Spanky didn't think he needed any old, stupid babysitter as he was 16 or 17 years old. Parents disagreed. Gee, I wonder why? So in the middle of the ensuing fight, my name somehow came up as being a possibility. I was a responsible adult(!?!?), which made Parents happy but yet I was somebody whom Spanky was quite fond of and whom he knew he could have fun with. After we made all the arrangements, I realized how much I'd enjoy the extra cash.
It was a very pleasant two weeks. I'd never been in so many sections of their home before and marveled at their furnishings, art and decor. I also got paid to eat their food and watch their TV. Spanky and I had some quality time together which I still remember fondly. My only boo-boo was on a Sunday afternoon.
We'd agreed that this particular Sunday would be date night and we planned to go out to a buffet place and chow down. Well, this would be when I'd learn that Mother's Day is the busiest restaurant day of the year. I simply didn't know. We went to a variety of joints only to be told of the 90 minute waits in each. Neither of us were up for that so I cooked and we went out another night before my stay was over.
Actually, I'll guess we're talking spring of '91 here. So the boys would all have been finishing the tenth grade. I haven't seen Spanky since Scoot's wedding (2006?) But we're friends on Facebook. He's an elementary school teacher now and has a wife and a couple of kids. I think he's very happy. Stephanie and Mick sold the house after he graduated and built something new and contemporary way out east in Aurora, Ohio. I was invited there once for dinner and a tour. Then they sold that and retired to Nantucket. They'd always had a second home there for summertime. But they sold that and bought a compound where they now live year 'round. They were an exceedingly pleasant and charming family.
The Shapiro twins, Scoot and Skedaddle, had a best friend, Spanky, who lived down the street. Spanky was a darling blonde boy who may as well have been a fourth son in our house for all the time he spent over. Spanky had an older brother whom I really didn't know but his parents and I were quite friendly.
When Spanky and the twins were in about the tenth or eleventh grade I received a phone call from his mom. "Jeremy, would you consider staying with Spanky for a couple of weeks, next month, while we go away on a trip?" Seems that Stephanie had already called Lena Shapiro to make sure it would be okay to steal me for a couple of weeks. They'd agreed that I could sleep over Spanky's and tuck him into bed at night no problemo. The only complications on the Shapiro end would be when I had to do my usual things back at their ranch: the family laundry and light house-keeping, both of which they felt could be done anytime during the day; and feeding the boys on Mondays and Thursdays which I could do as usual and simply tow Spanky along.
Stephanie further explained that I was the "compromise." Spanky didn't think he needed any old, stupid babysitter as he was 16 or 17 years old. Parents disagreed. Gee, I wonder why? So in the middle of the ensuing fight, my name somehow came up as being a possibility. I was a responsible adult(!?!?), which made Parents happy but yet I was somebody whom Spanky was quite fond of and whom he knew he could have fun with. After we made all the arrangements, I realized how much I'd enjoy the extra cash.
It was a very pleasant two weeks. I'd never been in so many sections of their home before and marveled at their furnishings, art and decor. I also got paid to eat their food and watch their TV. Spanky and I had some quality time together which I still remember fondly. My only boo-boo was on a Sunday afternoon.
We'd agreed that this particular Sunday would be date night and we planned to go out to a buffet place and chow down. Well, this would be when I'd learn that Mother's Day is the busiest restaurant day of the year. I simply didn't know. We went to a variety of joints only to be told of the 90 minute waits in each. Neither of us were up for that so I cooked and we went out another night before my stay was over.
Actually, I'll guess we're talking spring of '91 here. So the boys would all have been finishing the tenth grade. I haven't seen Spanky since Scoot's wedding (2006?) But we're friends on Facebook. He's an elementary school teacher now and has a wife and a couple of kids. I think he's very happy. Stephanie and Mick sold the house after he graduated and built something new and contemporary way out east in Aurora, Ohio. I was invited there once for dinner and a tour. Then they sold that and retired to Nantucket. They'd always had a second home there for summertime. But they sold that and bought a compound where they now live year 'round. They were an exceedingly pleasant and charming family.
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