Things my mother taught me
Complete devotion to the "wet washer" and a recipe for a traditional Lebanese lentil and silverbeet soup
Mum used to wipe our feet with a washer when we were kids. I can still remember how you’d be lying in bed and she’d come in to say goodnight. After getting a glance at the blackened pads of our feet, she’d go quickly for a “wet washer” to wipe away the dirt from the hours of barefooted play in the yard after dinner.
Mum was of the belief that any problem could be solved with a wet washer.
No air con in the car on a hot day - throw a wet washer over the baby.
Sticky fingers after licking the beater? This is where the wet washer comes into it’s own.
Slight headache? Nothing beats a cold washer on the forehead.
Covered in mozzie bites from staying outside on the trampoline, “I’ll grab a wet washer”.
Reminds me of how Toula’s dad in ‘My Big Fat Greek Wedding’ favours Windex as his cure-all solution to anything from a pimple on your face to a burn on your finger.
