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By Joshua Elie

My dad was the vocal music teacher at Baldwin schools for nearly 30 years and my mother a secretary for the grade school principal. I got away with nothing there.

I remember this one time I spent the night at my best friend’s house; I think we were in the third grade. (Mr. Bonk’s class, wasn’t it, Pauly?) My best friend is a professional man now and prefers to be called Paul, but when you’ve been best friends since kindergarten, you get to call each other whatever you want.

We grew up learning how to ski together, water and snow, went fishing, tried to belch the whole alphabet in one go … all the regular kid stuff allowed in those days. We liked riding 3-wheelers, shooting B.B. guns, throwing hatchets and break-dancing. It was such a different time, when little boys could just be little boys ⸺ skin our knees, play in the mud and get our butts whipped by every member of the community for having too much fun.

Joshua, about age 10, standing next to his friend Paul, seated on a three-wheeler in the mud. Both are wearing helmets and smiling.
Joshua and his friend Paul (seated). Courtesy photo.

Growing up middle class, upper, lower, we really didn’t think about it because we had great parents that always did, and still truly do, love us. We would come home covered in mud, admit to doing nothing but fishing, get the garden-hose treatment and be marched straight into the bathtub, while one of our mothers washed our clothes. It didn’t matter which one; they were both “mom” to us.

Pictured in a bathtub of dirty water are youngsters Joshua (wearing a cast on his lower leg) and his friend Paul.
Dirty boys. Courtesy photo.

One time, Pauly showed up to Mr. Bonk’s class, and he and the other boys decided to play “keep away,” you know, that game where you throw something back and forth while somebody tries to catch it? Well, this time it was my underpants. (Don’t ask.) So, there we were in the principal’s office, under mother’s glare, (secretary, remember?). Pauly is crying like a little girl, and I was so red in the face because I was sweet on this gorgeous little blond who sat at the desk in front of me, and how would I face her after this?

Back in those days, I would guess half the kids in Baldwin were raised by their grandmothers. (My father says more.) When it came to grandparents, I didn’t luck out much. So, I started picking my own, as well as extra moms, along the way. One thing’s for sure: I never ran out of cookies and milk.

A dozen Scotties fresh from the oven on a wire cooling rack.
Scotties don’t last long. Photo by J. Elie.

Elie’s Scotties

TOTAL TIME: 40 minutes. Prep: 20 min. Bake: 20 min.
YIELD: 15 servings

Ingredients

  • 1 cup creamy peanut butter
  • 1 cup packed brown sugar
  • 2 eggs
  • 2 and 1/2 cups quick-cooking oats
  • 1 teaspoon baking soda
  • Milk
  • 6 oz butterscotch chips

Directions

Begin preheating oven to 350 degrees. In mixing bowl, combine peanut butter, brown sugar, eggs, and soda. Add milk, then add oats and more milk until gooey. Add chips; mix evenly.

Line a baking sheet with parchment paper for easy clean-up. Drop by 1/4 cup. Bake at 350° F for 20 minutes. Remove and place immediately on wire racks to cool. Serve with a tall glass of milk, of course.

Read more by Joshua Elie HERE.

 

 

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