09 Sep Jenny Two-Shoes

Well, at least that was what my mother-in-law Jo Cain called Jennifer.  I can’t remember why; it may have been a song from one of those boogie woogie piano pieces she loved to bang out, especially at holidays with family gathering.  Jo called her Jenny Two-Shoes, but to the rest of us she rarely wore shoes until she started school.  It seems every picture of the three older children with her in it, her shoes were not in sight.  But we rarely noticed, since she also preferred to not wear clothes.  So it wasn’t just shoes, it was clothes as well.  I remember when we moved into a new neighborhood, and how thrilled I was that Janice Brown called.  I knew soon enough who the children were in the new neighborhood for us, and if they were the ages of our children.  I knew Janice had a daughter (also named Jenny) and thought how friendly it was that she reached out right away.  Probably to get the girls together, I thought.

But Janice had other concerns.  She started by asking if I had a young daughter about her daughter’s age, and I agreeably told her yes.  Then she advised me in a very neighborly way, “Well, I think that’s her in your front yard with no clothes on.”  Luckily, as time went on Janice did not let that first impression stop her from permitting the girls to become good childhood friends.

Jennifer loved to go grocery shopping and I was unaware on a quick-trip to the supermarket that she was again barefoot.  Yes, she was clothed but barefoot.  So I told her she would have to ride in the cart.  Well like any child of a certain age, they don’t want to do that anymore but she soon discovered that it was a perfect spot to see more grocery products, especially those in the carts of other mothers.  Because those were the days that I was (mostly) able to control  the food in the house, we ate pretty cleanly with great emphasis on fresh fruits and vegetables.  If it came in cellophane, I avoided buying it.  Jennifer’s frustration came to a head while in line waiting to cash out.  It was obvious.   Our cart items did not look like the items in other carts.  Those splendid carts had foods that young children would love to live on every minute of every day. Her sweet face defying the hurtful words, she asked me: “Why are you my mother?”

However, Jennifer did love the kitchen.  From the first, feminists be damned, she loved everything about being a homemaker.  She attended an academically oriented preschool when she was 3-4 and, after some months of assessing her progress, I decided to switch her to a more active, and well-rounded environment.  The first school was glad she left, on my account, I’m sure.  When the car-pool would go to drop her off, Jennifer would tell them I was dead.  The school staff had called and I assured them that it was just Jennifer’s curiosity about what the car-pool family would be having for lunch.  (disclaimer: I was a very early granola (the ’70s) and, as stated above, Jennifer felt that she had been dealt a very bad hand as far as meals and snacks were concerned.) There was relief when we left the first school, my explanation notwithstanding.  The second school environment was a great fit, I thought, until they called after several months to say they felt she spent too much time in the cooking center.  The cooking center was one of four activity centers; they wanted me to encourage her to broaden a bit.

Fortunately, I was never successful in broadening her early interests.  As early as her first birthday she preferred minestrone soup to birthday cake.  She especially loved to hang around my mother’s kitchen and watch her prepare dishes from scratch to include soups, stews, spaghetti sauces, fly-away birds (aka Italian veal birds) and tourtiere (French Canadian meat pie).   Much later as a teenager I would give her my credit card and she would shop for items for dinner.  She often planned and cooked meals for the family.

Today she is still cooking and experimenting, trying to duplicate Grandma’s sauces, soups and stews.  As is the trend, of course she’s a very informed foodie.  And fortuitously in her adult profession she has been a casting producer for cooking shows like CHOPPED.  Her food choices are creative and healthy; you would call her kitchen cleanly stocked with various nutritious items ready for inclusion into her latest recipe culled from continual reading, studying and remembering her memories from past kitchens.  She even stocks tofu.