Lisa D’Angelo
Editor’s note: This is a 2025 Summer Writing Contest Runner-up.
One of my earliest memories was around 1962, when this gold and black painted lacquer mid-century fish shaped candy dish would be taken out of the China cabinet in our small house on Roslyn Circle. This was the clue that my mom and dad were going to entertain their friends at the house.
My mom pulled her thick, jet black hair back in a low ponytail, slipping into her blue cleaning paints and oversized light blue shirt. She'd roll up the sleeves and hike up the shirt to tie it around her waist. Realizing years later those shirts were the same type we'd take to school to use as smocks for art class. Turns out they were my dad’s old and tattered work shirts, the kind that had starched French cuffs with perfect button holes to slip cufflinks through.
Now that my mom was properly suited up she assigned us three little girls chores to complete. The eldest sister was given vacuum detail. She’d start with the living room's beige carpet and when she was done you could see the vacuum tracks. The next oldest got the best assignment, at least in my eyes. She was handed several rags and a bright yellow can of Pledge. She polished the dark brown wooden rectangle coffee table with such vigor I thought she would fall over. Meanwhile, being the youngest, I got the assignment of fluffing up the pillows on the couch and the four chairs strategically placed around the coffee table. Laim!
Finally it was time to break for lunch. Tuna fish sandwiches, Ruffles potato chips, which I put in my sandwich giving it such a great crunch, applesauce and a glass of milk.
After a quick break, not even 30 minutes, ( too bad we didn’t know how to unionize), we finished the remainder of the chores.
Freetime girls, my mom declared, and the three of us bolted down the basement stairs to play in our wood paneled finished basement. We had a bright pink “make believe” kitchen set, complete with a refrigerator, stove and sink. The light brown low hanging shelves were home to the many ‘make believe' can goods.
A few hours later our dad hollered down the basement stairs. Hey girls, I’m home, and like race horses released from the starting gates, we ran full speed up the stairs to see who could get to him first. He knelt down to hug us all, smelling like the outside world.
After dinner the three of us completed our final chores before the company arrived. Cocktail napkins were placed around the living room and four brightly colored ceramic tulips holding cigarettes were arranged where my dad set up the bar. I got to fill the fish shaped candy dish with pastel colored dinner mints, proudly setting them down on the dessert table. I guess being the youngest wasn’t so bad after all.
Even today when I open the candy dish, I swear I can still smell those dinner mints.