Christmas Fudge by Tony Toledo
Hopefully we are done with snow. Thinking of snow got me thinking about Christmas. Growing up, Mom always made us fudge for Christmas. She would make it a month ahead and freeze it. When my sweet tooth kicked in, I would sneak out to the freezer, grab a piece of fudge and attack it like a beaver chewing an oak tree.
On Christmas Eve I am pretty sure Mom knew why her fudge was half gone when she opened it up. The Spirit of Christmas kept me from getting busted for fudge theft.
After living in Massachusetts for a decade it came to pass that I wasn’t able to go back Ohio. No Christmas with the family. To make me feel better Mom mailed me some of her homemade fudge. She put a note in with it, “Tony, we’ll miss you this Christmas. I made you this fudge with my own two hands, the same two hands that used to change your dirty diapers.”
When I offered my wife some fudge she asked, “Did your Mom wash her hands since she changed your diapers?” I told her,” I am pretty sure she did.” Not that it mattered much to us, we enjoyed the fudge greatly.
March 14, 2016