were so black and crying because were sopping wet. She tells us take
off all our clothes and she washes the coal off our hands and faces. She
tells Dad the pigs head can wait a while so that we can have a jam jar
of hot tea.
Its raining outside and theres a lake downstairs in our kitchen but
up here in Italy the fire is going again and the room is so dry and warm
that, after our tea, Malachy and I doze off in the bed and we dont wake
till Dad tells us the dinner is ready. Our clothes are still wet, so Malachy
sits on the trunk at the table wrapped in Mams red American overcoat
and Im wrapped in an old coat that Mams father left behind when he
went to Australia.
There are delicious smells in the room, cabbage, potatoes, and the
pigs head, but when Dad lifts the head from the pot to a plate Malachy
says, Oh, the poor pig. I dont want to eat the poor pig.
Mam says, If you were hungry youd eat it. Now stop the nonsense
and eat your dinner.
Dad says,Wait a minute. He takes slices from the two cheeks, places
them on our plates and smears them with mustard. He takes the plate
that holds the pigs head and puts it on the floor under the table. Now,
he says to Malachy, thats ham, and Malachy eats it because hes not
looking at what it came from and it isnt pigs head anymore.The cab-
bage is soft and hot and there are plenty of potatoes with butter and salt.
Mam peels our potatoes but Dad eats his skin and all. He says all the
nourishment of a potato is in the skin and Mam says its a good thing
hes not eating eggs, hed be chewing the shells and all.
He says he would, and its a disgrace that the Irish throw out mil-
lions of potato skins every day and thats why thousands are dying of
consumption and surely theres nourishment in the shell of an egg since
waste is the eighth deadly sin. If he had his way, and Mam says, Never
mind your way. Eat your dinner.
He eats half a potato with its skin on and puts the other half back
in the pot. He eats a small slice of the pigs cheek and a leaf of cabbage
and leaves the rest on his plate for Malachy and me. He makes more tea
and we have that with bread and jam so that no one can say we didnt
have a sweet on Christmas Day.
Its dark now and still raining outside and the coal is glowing in the
grate where Mam and Dad sit and smoke their cigarettes.Theres noth-
ing to do when your clothes are wet but get back into bed where its
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