I was back in Colorado earlier this year, visiting my mom. She was going through the basement, garage, and closets, getting things together for a garage sale. She told me to look through what she was planning to sell, to see if there was anything I wanted. As a kid, I vaguely remembered seeing this silly old apron, hanging in the broom closet way back when. I now have it hanging in my pantry. I don't really remember anyone in particular wearing it, but just seeing it brings a smile to my face.
I always tell people I really did grow up in a 1950's sit-com family. Mom quit teaching school when I was born and stayed home until the baby, five kids later, started school. Dad worked, Mom did the shopping, laundry, and cooking, us girls did the dishes and cleaned house, the boys mowed the lawn. But Mom didn't wear aprons like my grandmothers did. If she was canning or cooking something splattery, she might wear one of those backwards shirt-type smocks, but not a tied around the waist-type apron.
Dad would cook on camping trips and outside on the charcoal grill, but didn't do much cooking inside the house. I don't remember if he ever really did wear this apron. The one thing I do remember though, is that sometimes on a weekend morning, wearing pajama pants and a t-shirt, he'd cook pancakes for us kids and let Mom sleep in. That was something different, something special, a treat - having Dad in the kitchen. Now that I'm older and think about it, after taking care of five kids all week, getting to sleep in must have really been a treat for my mom too.