The Lovely Chocolate Mob - By Richard J. Bennett Page 0,4

go around telling many people this but…” and looked to Miss Planter, who leaned forward to hear better, so I whispered, “I come from a two-parent home,” and waited, then grinned when she got the joke. She smiled and leaned back into her chair. “Funny, Mr. Owen. What were your parents like?”

“This might seem almost unusual,” I said, “but I had parents who loved each other, a working father and a stay-at-home mother, who made sure we kids didn’t get into too much trouble. That wasn’t rare when I was younger, but these days it might be uncommon.”

“What did your father do for a living?” Miss Planter asked, obviously wanting to know something about our socio-economic situation. “How did he support the family in a one-paycheck home?”

“Dad was an electrician,” I said with a bit of pride, “and a very good one, too; at least, he was always in demand. He wired houses and businesses, in both new and old homes, and was hardly ever without work. As a result, we were kept financially sound and comfortable. We weren’t rich, but on the other hand, we never missed a meal.”

“Can you describe your home? I mean, the size of your house?” she inquired.

These questions were easy. “Yes, I can. It was a one story, two-bedroom, pier and beam home, and at $12,000 a bit pricey for a house that size in its day. I think the reason it cost more than other homes on the block was because it was the ‘show house.’” Miss Planter looked puzzled, so I explained. “A ‘show house’ is the house the realtors use to display the homes in a new neighborhood to prospective buyers. They would bring buyers to a ‘show house’ to give them a good idea of the layouts of all the houses in the neighborhood. All the houses in the area had the same amount of square feet, the same sized bedrooms, living rooms, bathrooms, etc.” Miss Planter nodded. Smart woman, she caught on quick. “Anyhow, our house had one and one half bathrooms, and it was maybe 1000 square feet, total. A one-story, with a front and back yard, it was a little more than a ‘starter’ home. A drainage ditch ran behind our backyard. When more siblings came into the family, Dad built onto the house, with two more bedrooms in the garage. We brothers had to share a lot, and later the biggest bedroom went to the oldest. When we grew up and began to leave home, one by one, there was more room for the rest.”

“Did your mother ever work?” Miss Planter asked. Women seemed interested in what other women did; I supposed that was normal.

“Yes,” I said. She worked before she met and married Dad, and then for a few years before the babies started arriving. This gave Mom and Dad a little breathing room, I think, to lay a financial foundation, so as to buy a home. That seemed to be what people did back then.”

“What do you mean?” Miss Planter asked. Maybe I had talked too much, and now was being asked to clarify my opinion.

“Back when I was a kid, parents got married and, for the most part, stayed married, and worked and saved so as to prepare a little nest, so the kids would have a place to stay. At least that’s how it was in our home. I know it didn’t happen everywhere, but that seemed to be the norm among the neighbors when I was growing up.”

Maybe I talked too much. Perhaps I’d better wait until she asked me questions before I freely gave any views. I hoped she didn’t think that I was sounding arrogant. I knew I could sound inappropriate to others at times with my opinions; on the other hand, I was paying for this.

“How many brothers and sisters did you have while growing up?” Miss Planter asked.

“I had two brothers and one sister. We had a big family but not a huge one. We weren’t rich, even though Dad worked continuously. We had all we needed, but not everything we wanted, which was probably a good thing. Don’t get me wrong, we weren’t perfect; we were far from perfect. We had our miscommunications and misunderstandings, but overall, Mom and Dad did a good job raising us; they tried. Any time one of us screwed up it was because we deviated from the path that our folks had set or hoped for us. What was most important,