When I was little, there was one thing we could have on the menu that would make me cringe and, at times, throw a fit. One thing.
Leftovers.
In our house, though, they weren’t called leftovers; they were called “musgoes.” Seem weird? That’s my family for you. They were called musgoes because if we didn’t eat them that night, they “must go.”
Get it?
I still call them that, and I imagine that it won’t be long before poor Leah cringes when Mama announces that the menu for the evening contains musgoes. She had them tonight, though, and didn’t seem to mind a bit as she polished off last night’s green beans and fruit cocktail.
This picture has nothing to do with anything, but it does feature two of the biggest opponents of musgoes the world has ever known. Judging by Ashley’s morose expression, they might have been served on that particular night. She might have been planning to fight them off with Dad’s flip flops. I must have been recruited to keep her from running away. As for the leis…..well, I have no explanation. Cute, though, no?
4 of your thoughts:
I love your poignant posts about your childhood "When we were little" I'm sure your parents eagerly await your next installment.
To this very day, musgoes do not exist in my house. I cook enough for the meal that evening and maybe enough for Larry to take to work the next day. I think I reached total burn out of leftovers when we were kids.
Does that sound a little extreme?
Y'all are so bad! You make it sound like it was horrible all the time. Truth be told, I always said that if you'd eat them when they were served the first time that we wouldn't have to have them again.
Don't you just love that picture?
Angelia, thats not bad at all...Thats what I do too! Boy, I dont know how often we had musgoes, but they sure made an impression on all of us!!
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