I grew up eating my mother’s version of goulash. After Lois and I married we used it to keep the kids full. If you look at them now, they are probably about thirty percent goulash. We all love it. When the children were small we would make a big vat of it for an evening meal. When we were done the kids would all pitch in on the clean-up.
The best job was feeding leftovers to the dogs. At the time we had a Golden Retriever named Ginger. Ginger loved goulash. After dinner we would open the door and she would come drop whatever ground hog, road-kill raccoon, or neighbor kitten she was gnawing on and come pounding across the yard at a dead run. The children would spoon a little of the leftover goulash into her dish. She would lunge in like a Sumo Wrestler at a buffet. While her head was down the children delighted in spooning the rest of the vat of whatever was left over onto the back of her head. She loved goulash so much, she didn’t even look up.
God’s been good to us. We’ve always had enough for all ten of us and leftovers for the dogs, too. That’s they way it is supposed to be. Kids first, then the dogs. (Matthew 15:22-28; Mark 7:24-30)
May 11, 2009