Up until the time I was 21 my mother called me Ralph. Not because I was fugly or looked like a boy, it was a term of endearment.
Well, in all honesty, it started out because I sort of looked like a boy for a period of time. Allow me to explain. When I was the fresh, young age of five, my mom ushered me onto the school bus for my first day of Kindergarten. It was an exciting time; my first ride on the school bus, going to school, meeting new friends.
Everything went well; I even managed to get onto the right bus for the ride home. I looked anxiously out of the bus window until I saw my mom waving as the bus stopped in front of our house. I hopped from the bus and ran up to my mom all eager and excited to tell her all about my big day. I stopped short when I saw the look on her face . . . something of mix between shock and confusion. My mom opened her arms and I went to her and got a great big hug. She was perplexed because she had sent me to school with long gossamer hair and I came home looking like someone had chopped all my hair off. This, in actuality, is exactly what happened! During recess me and a little boy played barber shop. Well, I was playing; apparently he was quite serious about his vocation. Chop, cut, chop. Cheryl turns to Ralph.
The name was perpetuated by the fact that I was quite the tomboy . . . climbing trees, playing in the mud, fishing, etc.
So I was Ralph.
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Cher ’s Almond Spice Cookies
- 3/4 Cup Shortening
In a large mixing bowl, cream shortening and 3/4 cup sugar until light and fluffy. Add molasses and egg; beat well.
In another bowl combine dry ingredients and mix with fork. Stir dry ingredients into creamed mixture, mixing well.
Chill cookie dough for 2 hours.
Shape in 1-inch balls, then roll each ball in sugar/almond mixture.
Place ginger cookies on greased baking sheets. Indent the top of each ball with your thumb and sprinkle additional sugar/almond mixture into the indentations. Bake in preheated oven for about 12 minutes.
Bake in preheated oven for about 12 minutes.
Up until the time I was 21 my mother called me Ralph. Not because I was fugly or looked like a boy, it was a term of endearment.
Well, in all honesty, it started out because I sort of looked like a boy for a period of time. Allow me to explain. When I was the fresh, young age of five, my mom ushered me onto the school bus for my first day of Kindergarten. It was an exciting time; my first ride on the school bus, going to school, meeting new friends.
Everything went well; I even managed to get onto the right bus for the ride home. I looked anxiously out of the bus window until I saw my mom waving as the bus stopped in front of our house. I hopped from the bus and ran up to my mom all eager and excited to tell her all about my big day. I stopped short when I saw the look on her face . . . something of mix between shock and confusion. My mom opened her arms and I went to her and got a great big hug. She was perplexed because she had sent me to school with long gossamer hair and I came home looking like someone had chopped all my hair off. This, in actuality, is exactly what happened! During recess me and a little boy played barber shop. Well, I was playing; apparently he was quite serious about his vocation. Chop, cut, chop. Cheryl turns to Ralph. 
The name was perpetuated by the fact that I was quite the tomboy . . . climbing trees, playing in the mud, fishing, etc.
So I was Ralph.
____________________________
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