A lot of kids today don’t know where our food comes from. Even some adults. I read a post on Facebook the other day telling hunters they should go to the store and buy their meat so no animals were killed. Here are a couple examples of kids who have been raised to believe food comes from the grocery store.
When I was a child, I had a mug with a picture of Elise the Borden Cow on it. When Grandpa went to the barn to milk, I followed with my mug. Of course, now I can’t stand to drink warm milk, but I still have my milk every day.
My son was about two or three years old when I took him to the home of a friend who had a dairy farm. The farmer hand milked a few squirts and then put the milking machine on the cows. We watched as the milk traveled through clear pipes into the cooling tank. When the wife got a paper cup and tried to give my son a drink, “I don’t want any of that cow’s milk.”
Old Dead Chickens
My grandmother always raised chickens. I can remember her with a chicken head in each hand wringing their necks. She would kill and dress ten to twenty-five chickens every Friday to deliver to her customers on Saturday for their Sunday dinner. (This was in the days before Tyson).
When my son was four, my mother took him to Grandma’s for a week. Now, Grandma left the farm after Grandpa died in 1958 and this was 1966. But, she still raised chickens. They were in cages in her garage. She wrung the necks of a couple of them and cleaned them. My son asked, “Grandma, what are you going to do with those old dead chickens?” When told they were for supper, his response was, “I ain’t gonna eat any of that old dead chicken.”
My grandmother’s gentleman friend came in town for dinner. When they sat down, my son said, “John, that’s old dead chicken you’re eating.” I don’t remember if he finally gave in and tried it or not.