A Loaf of White Bread, Because it’s My Birthday

barry currin, stories of a world gone mad, beaverdamusa.comMy birthday is right around the corner, and I know exactly what I want.

A loaf of white bread.

I know, I know. You were probably expecting me to say world peace, reduced greenhouse gas emissions or a Tennessee Vol defense that allows fewer than 700 yards per game.

That’s the stuff dreams are made of all right, but I am making it easy on my loved ones this year.

Of course, I need a pair of a shoes, but what fun is that? It’s my birthday. I should get something I want — not something I need.

And all I want is a loaf of white bread. Here’s why.

The other night, I saw a bottle of Karo Light Corn Syrup at one of my favorite restaurants, which triggered a childhood memory.

When I was growing up, we had dessert after every meal. Usually it was cake or pie. Sometimes it might be pudding or ice cream. On those rare occasions when we didn’t have a dessert sitting around, we improvised.

My favorite improvisation was what we called Karo and bread.

Daddy would give everyone a piece of white bread, butter it, cut it into nine pieces like a tic-tac-toe board and pour Karo syrup on it.

It was sweet, creamy and sticky. It was delicious. It was delightful.

I would eat the four corner pieces first to get them out of the way because they had the most crust. Then I would eat the four remaining outside pieces, saving the center piece for last. It was the one with the most butter, the most syrup and no crust.

Nowadays in our house, we eat whole wheat bread, just like all other good health-conscious folks. Karo and bread doesn’t translate to whole wheat bread.

It’s my birthday. I get to make one exception.

Besides, one loaf of white bread won’t kill me. I probably won’t even eat all of it.

I fully believe my request will trigger your generosity, which certainly is already buckling under the weight of all this Christmas spirit.

So, in order to keep bread truck after bread truck from lining up down my street, and thereby making my neighbors mad at me, I have made a list of alternative birthday gifts I will also happily accept.

  • a gallon of whole milk. I dearly love milk, and I drink skim like it’s going out of style. But let’s face it, when I slather up that white bread with butter and Karo syrup, I’m going to need whole milk to wash it down. If I’m going to do this, I’m going to go all the way.
  • plugs that work either way you put them in the receptacle. I’m convinced I get it wrong about 99 out of a hundred times.
  • the fortitude to delete the old emails in my inbox which have no chance of never being relevant again.
  • someone to help me eat the super economy-size cereal I bought last week. I’m the only one in the house who eats cereal, which means I should’ve passed by it at Sam’s Club the other night. But I was hungry, and I just couldn’t. So I now have a double-wide box with two huge bags filled with cereal. I’ve been eating on it daily and have barely made a dent in it. 
  • a helium-filled hula hoop. I tried hula hooping the other day — 40 years too late, apparently.

I make this silly list to illustrate the point that like most of you, I don’t really need any more material things. In fact, I would love to downsize.

Just give me a celebratory meal, and I’ll be happy.

And for dessert, you already know what I fully intend to have.

About Barry Currin

Barry tries to be funny and poignant, and he's usually satisfied when he succeeds with one or the other. (Being both is awesome. And sometimes that happens.) Email him: currin01@gmail.com


  1. I’ll help you eat the cereal …if it’s not Wheaties…I am not a champion of anything !!

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