Pushing through Proust

I don't like Proust very much because he takes forever to get to the point. His work is difficult but in class Professor Root said this is as hard it's going to get in any French class so he's using Proust to push us. I found this funny because the sentence, in French, sounds like this: "Il nous pousse avec Proust" and it's got that internal vowel rhyme thing going on...

Anyway, the interesting thing about Proust is that his story about "les madelines" makes me reflect on things-- foods, songs, nicknacks-- that bring up memories of childhood. The one that has come to my mind is Werthers caramels.

My Grandma Ellen always had a bag of them in her big, white drawer of candy in the hallway next to the kitchen in her house on Sunrise Avenue. I never liked the caramels, in fact I still don't, I always hoped to get an Andes Mint instead; they were a rare delicacy.

The drawer was heavy to pull out and squeaky. But, after being sure the coast was clear and the hallway empty, I remember I figured out that if I only pulled it out a few inches, the drawer remained quiet and I could reach my little arm in and feel around for the Andes Mints. I'd find one, extract it from the drawer, and then carefully, slowly push the drawer back in place. Then I'd scamper away from the scene of the crime.

I seem to recall at one point confiding to Elen that I could in fact acquire us a treat when she mentioned a hankering for candy. At first she was incredulous, but as I explained my methods she looked at me a little shocked (pretty sure that I was living on the wild side), and said that no she didn't want me to acquire us some candy. I guess she was the good kid.