With permission, I'm posting Steven Ormosi's story about his "Goulash" experience:
Your videos and stories remind me of my own Grandmother. She was always Grandma to me, not Nagymama, though naggy might describe her well:
"Where is your girlfriend?"
"I don't have one."
"Here is more chicken."
"I've already had two helpings!"
"You have to love your brother."
"...What? I do."
"Ok",
"...").
My Grandmother would dote on us, which was great because mom wouldn't let us drink soda or eat unhealthy cereal at home. She once gave me so much food while I was over there that I puked...ugh, I still can't eat sour cream and onion potato chips. I think I gained about 100 lbs as a direct result of them moving to NJ.
She was just as anal about everything being in the right place as your Nagymama is. She would constantly rove the living room and kitchen, fixing any little inconsistency, picking up bits of lint or string or what have you. Clearing dishes, as soon as the last morsel was picked off the plate. She was a whirling dervish.
"I have an idea", my cousin announced over the phone."Oh, yeah?" I couldn't hide my concern. Usually when anyone tells me they have an "idea", it's usually time to reach for the aspirin.
"In all the years we've been alive, we've NEVER had a family BBQ at the house. Let's have one for this 4th of July. I would really like to make some good memories for the boys."
I wracked my brain for "good memories". To me, 4th of July was filled with the sound on my mom screaming in terror every time my neighbor set off fireworks. Every time she heard the slightest "Boom", she would run to make sure that the roof wasn't on fire from "dah ashes from dah firevorks".
Despite the fact that I had already made plans, I decided that I would find some way to cancel them so I could spend time with my family. I want my cousin's children to have happy, non-traumatic memories , so I if that means I have to make sure that my mother doesn't get naked in front of them
like our last vacation, so be it.
"Great idea. I'll...
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The last night at Camp, I tried to sleep, but I couldn't ignore my mother's sighing and heavy breathing from the next bed over. I would have never noticed the noise if Irina hasn't make such a fuss about it
the night before.
I tossed and turned for a while, counted sheep, and even tried to put a pillow over my head. Nothing worked.
"Anyu, are you okay? Why are you breathing and sighing so deeply?"
"Ehhh...my bra...it's too tight."
"What size are you?"
"36C."
"No way, mom, you're bigger than that. Even I'm a 38B."
"No vay you're a 38! You haf no boobs!"
"Gee, thanks. And '38' has nothing to do with boob-size. It's the circumference of my rib cage."
"Oh....really? Den vhat are dah letters for?"
"That's the cup size. For your boobs."
"Oooooh. Nobody ever told me dat. I just picked von up vhen I was 18 and I've been getting dah same size ever since."
"Didn't Nagymama ever teach you about that stuff?"
"You didn't talk about tings like dis vhen I vas young, Stephie. You veren't supposed to."
"Says who?"
"I dunno. You just veren't supposed to talk about anyting."
My mother eventually "unbuckled" herself, her heavy breathing hastened, and I...
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Awesome! Philly2Philly did a feature about "American Goulash" on their site! Thanks guys!Also, WOO HOO! This is my 100th post! Time for cake!
Get Your Goulash
By
Autumn Konopka at 1:40 pm on Wednesday May 27, 2009
Original Source
We’ve all got a crazy family story, the ones we pull out when a party gets dull to stir up a round of belly laughs. People might not even believe that Uncle John burned down the garage or wrenched an old lady from her burning station wagon, but they beg you to tell it over and over again.
Stephanie Yuhas has a blog’s worth of these stories. Since 2007, she’s been posting several stories a month on American Goulash (shinygrape.com/americangoulash), mostly about her Romanian mom (Anyu) and grandmom (Nagymama), their views of the world, and their unique style of child-rearing.
In a recent post called “Bath Time,” Yuhas explains that she had to sneak showers as an adolescent because Nagymama believed that excessive bathing led to: “Red Hair (which makes you look like a whore), All your hair falling out (well, at least it won’t be red anymore), and Kidney infections (resulting in death).” ...
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June 4th,2009
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With permission, I'm posting Steven Ormosi's story about his "Goulash" experience:
