Buttered Crackers

I have a fond childhood memory of my father buttering Saltine crackers every time we ate spaghetti.  Some people have garlic bread, he had buttered crackers.  It was actually funny to watch, because he meticulously made sure that the butter went all the way to the edges and was perfectly even in consistency throughout the entire cracker.  He smoothed and smoothed until it was pristine.  Then, he’d lay the cracker on the edge of his plate and repeat the process.  After he had his two crackers, he’d start to eat, using one of the crackers as a wall to ram his forkful of spaghetti against.

One day, my brother asked my father if he could have one of his crackers.  My father paused mid-buttering and just stared at him.  You could see the agony and dilemma being waged in his mind.  On the one hand, he had his routine, and he wanted to enjoy the fruits of his labor.  On the other hand, it was his son, and how could he deny such an innocent request.  Finally, love won out, and he handed my brother one of his crackers.  As he diligently went to work on another cracker to replace the given one, I asked him if I could have one too.  Again, the same agony and dilemma waged in his mind, but again, he gave up the cracker.

After that, my brother and I always asked for a buttered cracker whenever we had spaghetti.  We’d always wait for that exact moment, when he was almost done buttering the second one to ask.  He would always huff and hand over the crackers.  As time went on, he started to lay out four crackers instead of two.  He would butter them all and just slide one on each of our plates without us having to ask.  It became part of his routine, and I think that made it more acceptable in his mind. 

To this day, I still think of buttered crackers whenever I have spaghetti.