A Boy After My Own Heart

I look forward to the day when my Grandma Tootsie makes me a big pot of homemade noodles. As long as I can remember, Grandma would make her own noodles. It was quite the process as each noodle was cut just so. Each the same size as the next. She would always talk of how I would shovel them in, by the fist full as a kid. We get bags of homemade noodles from the Amish. While they aren't as good as hers, they hit the spot. I made a pot the other night with big hunks of onion and chicken broth, just like she would. When I looked to see if Bowen was eating them I think I see what Grandma saw.