You kids have it so easy, with all your modern conveniences.

We had no running water.

I had to go to the bathroom in a bucket…

… we had no toilet paper.  We used old books, newspapers and leaves.

And we worked hard on a farm, not like you slackers …

… you don’t know the meaning of a hard day’s work.

… all you do is play Nintendo

… we were so poor, we played with mud…

… and we liked it.

When I was a little boy, I had to walk many miles to school every day…

… uphill both ways…

… in the snow…

… on my knees.

Cars had only just been invented, but no one owned one.

Roads had not been invented…

And the world was in black and white;

you can tell that from all the old movies and TV shows.  We didn’t even have sound until 1920!

If you were around when I was little, and you had to do all the things I had to do, you’d be dead by now.

So, my daughter Courtney bought a new kitchen appliance for herself, a quesadilla maker.  The quesadillas were indeed yummy.  The thing is, my daughter (and I) suffer from dyslexia.  I have more or less overcome this, but Courtney has not.  Why do I mention this?  Well, she was telling us that she was making Kwanzaas.  She had misread the box, and when we tried to correct her, she told us that we were wrong, since Kwanzaa started with a “qu.”  We told her that we were pretty sure this was not the case; that Kwanzaa was a modern African-American winter season celebration, not a food product, but she kept making Kwanzaas anyway.  She then told us that she preferred her Kwanzaas with tobacco.  OK, this was strange, especially for a 13 year old, so I asked if she was smoking while eating her Kwanzaa.  Of course she denied this.  One usually sprinkles tobacco on their Kwanzaas.  So, tobacco is a food ingredient?  “Right,” she said, “you sprinkle it on your Kwanzaa.”  “OH, Tabasco,” I said.   “You are putting hot sauce on your Kwanzaa.”  “Right, tobacco.”

Later that evening, Courtney made another “Kwanzaa”-related quip.  She said that she didn’t like people who smoke Tabasco.  I told her that I agreed, smoking Tabasco might hurt, and it would probably be unpleasant for those around them as well.  She then exclaimed “You know, George Washington grew a lot of Tabasco – he was a Tabasco farmer.”  I then said, “You mean tobacco.  Remember, Tabasco goes on quesadillas.”  “Kwanzaas,” she said.  “The tobacco goes on Kwanzaas.”