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Hot Peas and Butter
Feb. 27th, 2013 10:15 pmIn retrospect it wasn't normal, the game we played as children. We called it "Hot Peas and Butter." I don't know why. But, here's how it went...
I was five years old and we had just moved back to New York. This is back in the days of free-range children and the neighborhood was full of poor kids, like us. We roamed and all the houses had eyes on us. There were no secrets.
Ah, but back to the game. To this day I don’t know why it was called Hot Peas and Butter; I don’t suspect I’ll ever have an answer to that. It was similar to hide-n-seek in that something was hidden. Whoever was “it” took a belt and hid it behind the house (you see where this is going yet?). “READY!” And the rest of the players bolted from the porch to find the belt.
One lucky kid would find the belt secreted in a patch of weeds or behind some wood and rusted nails, grab it and yell “Hot Peas and Butter” then proceed to run after the nearest friends whipping them with the belt as hard and as often as she or he could until they got to the front porch base, the only place of safety.
I didn’t know this was odd until college. I told the story to an audience of shocked faces. “Where the hell did you grow up?”
----
This is an entry for Second Chance Idol, Topic 5 (What the HECK was that?), Week 6 http://therealljidol.livejournal.com/626686.html
I was five years old and we had just moved back to New York. This is back in the days of free-range children and the neighborhood was full of poor kids, like us. We roamed and all the houses had eyes on us. There were no secrets.
Ah, but back to the game. To this day I don’t know why it was called Hot Peas and Butter; I don’t suspect I’ll ever have an answer to that. It was similar to hide-n-seek in that something was hidden. Whoever was “it” took a belt and hid it behind the house (you see where this is going yet?). “READY!” And the rest of the players bolted from the porch to find the belt.
One lucky kid would find the belt secreted in a patch of weeds or behind some wood and rusted nails, grab it and yell “Hot Peas and Butter” then proceed to run after the nearest friends whipping them with the belt as hard and as often as she or he could until they got to the front porch base, the only place of safety.
I didn’t know this was odd until college. I told the story to an audience of shocked faces. “Where the hell did you grow up?”
----
This is an entry for Second Chance Idol, Topic 5 (What the HECK was that?), Week 6 http://therealljidol.livejournal.com/626686.html
