Who is Joe?

I want to share a sweet and funny anecdote, from when my daughter was little. She was about seven or eight-years-old at the time. An only child, she’d been playing in her bedroom, when she came into the kitchen, where I was making dinner, and asked, “Mommy? What’s for dinner?” “Sloppy Joes,” I answered, not even bothering to look up from the frying pan. “Oh,” she said and went back to her room. A scant few minutes later, she was back in the kitchen. “Mommy?” she asked, in a matter of fact tone, “Who’s Joe?”

It was a fair and reasonable question, and one for which I still, after more than twenty years, have no answer. It occurred to me, later, that it was probably a GI term made up by a military cook, in some far off mess tent, where soldiers ate whatever concoctions were dished out to them. I confess that, later that same night, I sat up in bed and wondered, in horror, if my little girl had considered the horrific possibility that “Joe” might’ve been a real person . . . and that we were cannibals! LOL

I’ll look it up, someday. For now, it’s enough that her little inquisitive mind brought me such sweet joy, all those many years ago.

Another time, I’ll tell you the story about “Bud”. That one is cute too. We actually won tickets to a theme park, when I wrote out and entered that true life story in a parents’ magazine contest.

Bright Saturday Blessings!

Faerie