My mom used to make us rice bickies when we were younger. I think she claimed once that the reason we called them this was because one of us couldn’t say rice krispies right. The real reason was because the “treat” she made us was so far from a rice krispie that it had to be renamed for copyright sake. Rice bickies had sunflower seeds, wheat germ, granola, and chocolate chips (there were probably more additives I can’t recall). The point is, I remember these things. Along with the fact that we never got sugary cereals, spagettios or strawberry nesquick (all things I commonly was jealous that my friends had).
I also remember my mother asking us if we wanted to skip school and stay home. She always made breakfast for us before school (rarely did we eat cereal), woke us up with a good morning song on occasion, and sang the happy birthday song every time we saw her on our birthday.
Sometimes I wonder what random things my kids will remember about their childhood. I used to be so firm about no kids in bed with us at night that Mason would come upstairs in the middle of the night and sleep on the floor with a blanket and pillow. I don’t let them play video games or watch crazy movies on Sundays. I turn music on really loud, dance weird, and have nerf gun fights.
And I worry they’ll just remember how I was never home because I worked and went to school all the time. I made them move when they didn’t want to, I wouldn’t buy them the puppy they asked for, and I made them empty the dishwasher all the time.
Maybe they’ll just remember how I didn’t cook them breakfast very often, but I did buy Lucky Charms every St. Patrick’s day.