img_2605-1As a child, we had a live in helper for our family (more about that here). Her various siblings and friends stayed with us as they established new jobs or housing situations.

At one point, her brother and his best friend lived in our home. My memories of this time are of family dinners with 10 people, kids using popcorn cans and butter churns as stools, and so much community and good vibes.

The brother’s friend needed to learn to drive. So my parents taught him and helped him get his license. He wanted to buy a used car. My parents helped navigate the process. Then, the day came…

There’d been an accident.

My step-dad rushed to the scene to find our friend standing outside his car. The inside of the car was covered in…spaghetti. Spaghetti? SPAGHETTI! I wasn’t there, but I think the conversation went something like this:

“What happened?”

“I was eating”

“You were eating spaghetti while driving?”

“si”

I guess that should have been covered in the driving lessons. Oh, and we lived in the mountains at that time, with ONLY curvy roads.

*Disclaimer: No doubt the memories here did not happen exactly as I remember them. David McRaney tells us all about that in his book. But, they are still my memories, told best I can. And I’m sharing them with you.

Spaghetti

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