I thought it might be interesting to hear fellow chowhound stories their families (or members) seem to tell over and over and over that you maybe now love them, cherish them, use them for gentle mocking... It seems to be our family tradition. My mom's childhood was filled with annato uncolored oleo (a major source of unhappiness for her), catching and eating blackbirds... my mom likes to tell how my grandpa fed me spoon of peanut butter when I was an infant and I barfed all over him. My sister likes the one where my brother ate all my grannie's Ayds diet candies in one sitting and was too scared to tell anyone when he got sick or the time where he ate some canned okra that had been jarred (time getting extended over the years) over 20 years previously on a dare (not to be outdone by our cousin who sucked a rotten chicken egg out of a hole in the shell. Sister crying when she found out she was eating Bambi. Me and my sisters making Mother's day breakfast in bed consisting of wallpaper paste milk gravy on canned biscuits and boiled eggs. My mom confessed to my sister about hiding it in the side table (many years later) and my sister got in a major huff over it. So much so that it is now in the story repertoire. All sort of terrible stories - not really all that nice sounding, but we always relate them with love and MUCH animation. Not a nice story in the bunch!
Anyone else have this? We trot them out on holidays. DH's family has no such tradition. I wonder if it is because food is not the center of their universe.