My younger daughter was lamenting to me the other day, “Most other people have parents who walked uphill, both ways, in the snow to get to school. But not my mom! My mom grew up on a farm!”
We had been discussing a carton of eggs with an expiration date from 2 days prior.
“Old expiration dates? Pfft! They’re fine! I grew up on a farm and we used to eat food with no expiration dates! I’m alive! You’ll live too!” She says with exasperation.
What does she think? Chickens have eggs that are popped out with an expiration date? That’s why you float them!
When did it expire? Does it smell funny? Does it look weird? Does it taste “off”…
No, then it’s fine. Eat it.
She then rants into, “Zombies! We had zombies! Pfft! I grew up on a farm, you’ll be fine. Just get behind me.”
Yes, we’ve had discussions on where we’d go in a zombie apocalypse. One should always be prepared.
The Valley always wins hands down. If you know, you know. If you don’t I’m not telling you because then when you’ve been zombie-fied you would know where to find us.
One highway in, same one out – so it’s easy to defend.
And those people know how to handle a rifle. (Okay, so not me, but I have other skills).
How would we get there? Just ask my kids..
“Our mom grew up on a farm! She knows how to siphon gas, she can drive back roads, she can read a map without her GPS, and she can build a hay fort for shelter.”
I think my kids have been watching too much John Mulaney, because this particular rant was starting to have his tone of voice.
“My mom. My mom grew up on a farm. Their eggs and milk didn’t come with expiration dates. If it didn’t smell, look, or taste weird, you just ate it and hoped you didn’t die.”
That wasn’t quite how it worked, but when you eat meat products from animals you raised, drank milk that came in gallon size mayonnaise jars from the neighbor’s cows, had butter made from the milk / cream on the top of that jar of milk, had eggs from the chickens out back, and vegetables from the garden – you realize that expiration dates are more of a general idea than a hard, fast rule.
My kids, though… sigh…are rule followers. If the date on the package says one thing, that’s it!
They’ve even had the debate over whether or not that is the last day it could be used or that is the day it needs to be thrown out.
I’m not quite sure how they would handle homegrown foods that don’t come with dates.
But, never fear!
Their mom grew up on a farm.
Accidental Southern Mama 
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