Pee Paw's Sticky Chicken Pot

This past weekend was insane. 

I hurt my arm (the right one, of course) the weekend before, was in a plaster splint that went from the middle of my fingers all the way up to my shoulder and I quickly figured out I'm not very good as a lefty. I was freaking out since I was already scheduled to host 45 people at my house for Louis' office party on Saturday, so my parents drove 9 hours from Louisiana to help out. My mom had already told me that she was bringing my grandpa's cast iron pot with her for me to have. She put it in the garage since it was packed in a box with newspaper, and being so busy trying to host such a big event at my house with one arm, it sat in the garage until yesterday.

I unwrapped it and took it inside so I could start the process of re-seasoning it since it hasn't been used in years.

The kids got home from school in the afternoon, and as Marshall was unpacking his school bag he saw it, walked over to it and asked "what's this?"

I said "do you remember Great Pee Paw and Great Grammy? This was their pot and now Nana gave it to me to have"

Marshall replied "well, that's nice....... because even when you're not using it, it can be your memories"

That kid. He gets it.

Sometimes my kids drive me to the brink of insanity and other days they say things that stop me in my tracks and all you can do is grab them and hug them so tight they complain.

I know some people hate cooking.
To them it's a chore and it makes a mess and it's not worth the hassle. 

But to me, that's it.
That's what it's always been about.