The Comancheros and Shepherds Pie

nj1639

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Growing up, my mom had a penchant to try new food experiments to be released on the family. One that she apparently was very proud of was her attempt at Shepherds Pie.

Now as a child I liked the food on my plate separated from each other and would eat them one item at a time. No mixing of peas and mashed potatoes thank you! Stewed tomatoes not blending in with the green beans please! Succotash? A failure from the start. My Uncle Tom would say that it all ends up together in your stomach anyway so why the fuss? Yeah, once it's in your stomach it can blend all it wants, I just don't want to taste it mixed going down.

We were living in Cheyenne at the time, 1961, a week or so before Christmas and the movie Comancheros had come to town. Me and my buddy Joe Dougherty from across the street were going to walk the seven blocks to the theatre to watch the afternoon show, just had to go into the house, announce my intention and get the money to go. No problem. I was informed that I had to eat my dinner first before heading out.

What was presented to me was Shepherds Pie! Shepherds Pie? What the heck is this? A mashed potato bird nest as big as my plate with mixed vegetables, meat and gravy placed where the eggs would be. Instant fail! I bucked immediately! I'm not eating it! "Oh yes you are! And there'll be no movie for you unless you do! Now we're heading out to do some Christmas shopping, eat your dinner!" said mom. Dad didn't have my back on this one. He probably wanted to go Christmas shopping about as much as I wanted to eat this, whatever it was.

Out the door they went as I settled into tears, poking at these cold, by now, mashed potatoes and jelled whatever placed on top. Time steadily ticked away getting closer and closer to show time as I contemplated my misery.

At the time, we were living in a house right next door to the governors mansion. Living room and formal dining room towards the front, kitchen to the rear and a utility pantry built on to the back of the kitchen which opened up to the back yard where the garage and incinerator were located. The incinerator! Yes ! I picked up my plate of chilled abomination and headed out the back door!

Opening the back door I noticed a light snow had started to fall. Down the two steps and a turn to the right I went to the incinerator. I lifted the lid and dropped the failed experiment onto the top of the burnable debris already there. Back into the house I went to the kitchen table. Taking my fork, I moved around what little was left on the plate to appear as if it had been eaten with the fork. Some fork marks here, a swirl here, yeah! Perfect! Tick, tick, tick as the clock moved forward to show time.

Money! I needed money! Into the closet I went, searching dress coat pockets. I scored a walking Liberty half dollar in one pocket and a dime and some pennies in another, plenty enough to get in and buy some candy. I left a note saying that I had gone to the movies and then out the door and across the street to get Joe!

The movie! Ah, it was great for a nine year old boy living in the wild west! John Wayne? Indians? It couldn't get any better! About halfway through the movie I noticed somebody in the darkness of the theatre walking down the aisle looking around. No! Could it be? Yep, Dad.
Dad sees us and slides in to the seat next to us and asks me if I had eaten my dinner. I answered hesitantly that I had. He then asked where I had gotten the money. I told him i had found enough in the coat pockets in the closet. He said Ok and that he'd see me when I got home. I know I watched the rest of the movie but never 'saw' it as I was now filled with trepidation and anxiety.

The walk home is hardly remembered as the thoughts that were swirling around in my head took precedent. On entering the house, mom asked if I had eaten my dinner. I replied in the affirmative. "Oh yeah? Come here, I want to show you something!" she said. Dad was just a neutral spectator at this point, my rear end was hers on this one. To the back door we went as my heart was sinking. Opening the back door she pointed down and said "Look!" There on the bit of sidewalk that curved over to the incinerator was my set of footprints in the light snow that had fallen, going to and from the incinerator along with a set of moms footprints doing the same.

Punishment? I don't recall. Maybe sent to my room or something as such. Dad later told me that when they had returned from shopping and saw the note that he wanted to make sure that I had gotten to the movie safely and to repay Joe if he had paid my way in. While he was doing this, Mom was back at the house, probably throwing some paper from shopping into the incinerator when the deception was discovered.

It was a great lesson to learn at that early age, covering your tracks, and has served me well over the years. We never had Shepherds Pie again.
 
That was a great story! Took me right back to the day I got my first report card in high school and I had three F’s on it. I had been covering up how badly I was doing in school and I knew my mother was going to be caught off guard.
She was excited to see my very first high school report card and had taken off early from work , just to be there the minute I walked through the door. I don’t think I ever walked home from school so slowly, I was filled with dread at how my mother would react.
My fears were well deserved, it brought a level of involvement from my mother, into my life that I never would’ve imagined.
Trust me when I tell you my grades shot right up!
 
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