Lucky to be alive

Finger licking good!

The way I was brought up by Okie parents I am surprised I’m still alive.  And what I am saying, without any thought, I still lick my fingers.  And now with some consideration I just might catch the virus any day now after licking my fingers.  It’s an OCD condition living like southern red dirt Okies, I’m sure.  Boy Howdy!

It all started with a forever diet of my mom’s very greasy fried chicken.  An Okie food staple requiring massive amounts of finger licking.  I’m positive Colonel Sanders copied this digital licking mantra from my mom.

The second food item we Okies cherished was homemade ice cream.  Banana, strawberry, or vanilla.  It all didn’t matter.  It all ran down our fingers before we got our spoons to our mouths. Plus we were very careless how we held the bowl or coffee cup over flowing with the creamy froth.  Plus that was half the fun slurping the cream from our fingers.

The third item we Okies loved to lick was the watery goodness of Watermelon.  We got it all over our fingers as well as our faces.  Plus it dripped and ran down to our elbows.  How else were we to keep it from dripping on our jeans and white t-shirt. 

The sad thing, it’s a habit hard to stop.  Plus not being close to a water basin to wash hands.  Couple that with today’s health crisis, I may be gone soon.  Boy howdy!

Published by Charles Oldenfatt the Curmudgeon

If I told you the truth about myself you would think what a wad of chewed gum stuck under a church pew I am. Dull. Ordinary .old and fat

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