Tina Traster

The sweet yeasty aroma rising from the blessed creation stimulated my salivary glands and my memory. As I reached toward the loaf to tear off an end my husband tapped my hand as though I were an impetuous child: "No," he said, "You've got to wait for it to cool." I really was back in the kitchen with grandma, being taught the virtue of patience.

Not playing by the rules is dicey in suburbia where children are raised in a culture of uniformity. I don't let my daughter go to birthday parties at Chuck E. Cheese or eat cafeteria school food or watch television during the week. This makes her different. This makes us different.