Latest news with #oldschool
Yahoo
13-05-2025
- Health
- Yahoo
Old-School Breakfasts You Don't See People Eating Today
Remember when breakfast didn't come in a box, cup, or bar? Back before almond milk lattes and $12 avocado toast took over the morning scene, people sat down to meals that were hearty, homemade, and — let's be honest — sometimes a little odd by today's standards. Think mushy toast soaked in warm milk, sizzling pork scraps in cornmeal, or popcorn swimming in cream. These were the breakfasts that fueled generations before us. Some were born out of thrift, others from convenience, and a few from good ol' fashioned culinary curiosity. But for one reason or another — changing tastes, faster lifestyles, the invention of Pop-Tarts — these old-school breakfasts have quietly slipped off the menu. In this article, we're flipping back through the recipe box to revisit the breakfast dishes your great-great-grandma loved and your great-uncle maybe still makes. Just don't be surprised if you end up craving a grapefruit half or buttered O's by the end. Read more: 17 Hotel Breakfast Buffets Ranked From Worst To Best Long before Golden Grahams or French Toast Crunch turned breakfast into a sugar-fueled cartoon, kids devoured bowlfuls of milk toast — bits of toast tossed into boiled sweet milk and served up with a little sugar and nutmeg. But milk toast wasn't a one-recipe wonder. Many recipes kept the toast intact instead of breaking it into pieces. Some added flour to thicken the milk. Others took a savory approach by adding meat or veggies. Milk toast was more than just "a fine dish for breakfast on a cold day," as the 1920 "The Cook Book of Left-Overs" called it. It was basically the Vicks VapoRub of the food world. Back in the 1800s and early 1900s, doctors recommended milk toast as a "feel better soon" meal for almost any ailment. Suffering from diarrhea? Gout? Mumps? Here, have some milk toast. But the Wheat Council of the United States and makers of electric toasters wanted to make sure that milk toast was known as much more than just sick-day mush. In 1924, Exeter and Hampton Electric Company teamed up with the Wheat Council to launch the "Eat More Toast" campaign. They distributed a leaflet called "Toast — Good Ways to Use an Old Friend." One of the featured recipes — milk toast. Their version called for hot salted milk poured over slices of buttered toast and sprinkled with paprika. They touted this warm plate of soggy toast and milk as "one of the best things to give a school child for breakfast." Americans consume billions of dollars worth of cereal every year. But long before the breakfast aisle offered an overwhelming number of cereal choices, Americans were pouring milk over something a little ... poppier. Yes, popcorn. Not the movie snack. Not the stadium or fairground treat. In the 1800s and early 1900s, popcorn was a popular breakfast cereal. It was cheap and endlessly adaptable. Sometimes, it was just popcorn, cold milk, and a bit of sugar. But it could also be served hot. Or with mix-ins like stewed apples, plump raisins, or a splash of fruit juice. In "Science in the Kitchen," Mrs. E.E. Kellogg described ground popcorn as "a delectable dish eaten with milk or cream." That name might ring a bell — Ella Eaton Kellogg was the wife of Dr. John Kellogg. It was in Ella's experimental kitchen where they accidentally flaked wheat into a crisp cereal. That happy accident was later replicated with corn. The rights were sold to John's brother William, who turned them into the now-iconic Kellogg's Corn Flakes. While Kellogg's and other cereals thrived, popcorn cereal quietly faded into history. It turns out it had one fatal flaw — sogginess. Some people just couldn't stomach how quickly it turned mushy. And once boxed cereal came along, with its convenience, crunch, and colorful mascots, popping corn in the morning suddenly felt like way too much work. Still, next time you're snacking on popcorn, just remember — you're only a splash of milk away from enjoying breakfast, 19th-century style. Creamed chipped beef on toast first reported for duty in the U.S. Army back in 1910, when it appeared in the "Manual for Army Cooks." The mission? Feed a lot of hungry troops with something hearty, comforting, and pantry-friendly. The original recipe — thin slices of dried beef simmered in a creamy, peppery sauce, poured over toast — required 15 pounds of chipped beef and served 60 hungry heroes. Gaining the less-than-glamorous nickname "S.O.S." (short for "s*** on a shingle"), the dish was a beloved breakfast staple, even if the name suggests otherwise. But let's be honest, even the tastiest meals can wear out their welcome, and S.O.S. gained a couple of other meanings too: "Save Our Stomachs" and "Same Ol' Stuff." In some places, the dish was served almost daily. Not content to be confined to military life, creamed chipped beef steadily marched its way into the heart of American breakfast culture. It found new recruits at Civilian Conservation Corps canteens, Boy Scout camps, and graced the pages of Good Housekeeping and Woman's Home Companion. It even earned a spot on the menu at places like IHOP and Cracker Barrel. It's since gone MIA from many restaurants and kitchen tables, though the military still serves a variation of it. It's now called Creamed Ground Beef, as chipped beef has been honorably discharged. If you're feeling nostalgic and want to try the dish at home, an easy creamed chipped beef on toast recipe stands at attention. Shirred eggs may sound fancy, but they're really just baked eggs. Traditionally cooked in a flat-bottomed dish (called, appropriately, an egg shirrer), shirred eggs are baked and served right in the same dish. These eggs were popular in the 1800s and made a glamorous comeback in the 1950s and 1960s, when newspapers sang their praises as the perfect meal for impressing company. The basic version is simple: Butter your dish, crack in a few eggs, drizzle hot melted butter over the yolks, and bake in a slow oven for a few minutes. Of course, even back in the day, no one could resist tinkering with a good thing. In 1898, Adolphe Meyer's "Eggs and How to Use Them" listed over 50 ideas for dressing up shirred eggs — mushrooms, chestnuts cooked in broth, chicken livers, eggplant — basically, anything goes. Some recipes layered tasty bits, such as slices of ham, directly on the dish and poured the egg over them. Others piled ingredients on top. Most ingredients work either way — cook the eggs in a bath of thick cream, or pour the cream over the egg. Or both might be the best option — like strips of bacon on the bottom and bits sprinkled on top. And don't forget the sides of the dish —some recipes call for lining the entire buttered dish with fine cracker crumbs and sprinkling buttered crumbs on top. With endless possibilities, shirred eggs are the kind of classic that really shouldn't be over easy — or over. Hoecakes and Johnny cakes might sound like they're part of a vintage dance playlist your grandparents enjoyed. In reality, they're cornmeal flatbreads wrapped in culinary confusion. Some say the name "hoecake" comes from early versions that were cooked on the blade of a hoe. Others think "hoecake" was a mispronunciation of a Native American word for ground corn cakes. Still, others believe hoecakes were made on a cooking tool called a "hoe." In some places, the terms "hoe" and "griddle" are interchangeable. And in parts of the South, pancakes are sometimes called hoecakes. Generally, though, a pancake is fluffier while a hoecake is flat and dense, with crisp edges. Unlike pancakes, hoecakes don't rise to the occasion with baking powder or baking soda — just cornmeal, water, and salt. They might be topped with butter and honey — indeed, those were George Washington's preferred toppings. Hoecakes with tea were one of his favorite breakfasts. But wait — was Washington really eating hoecakes? Depends on who you ask. In some circles, "hoecake" and "Johnny cake" are practically synonyms. In other circles, Johnny cakes are thicker, with added ingredients like fat, flour, milk, eggs, sugar, or baking powder. Or maybe not. During the Civil War, soldiers made what were known as Johnny cakes from what little they had — just cornmeal, salt, water, and maybe some precious grease for frying. Many recipes that came out after the war included ingredients that those soldiers could only dream of — and, unsurprisingly, with tastier results. Born from the resourcefulness of 17th-century German immigrants, scrapple was their clever way of using every last bit of the pig. So, what exactly is scrapple made of? Pork scraps — including some organ meats that politely don't get mentioned at the breakfast table — are simmered with grains like cornmeal and flour, seasoned perfectly, then chilled into a loaf. When it's time to eat, slices of scrapple hit the skillet for that breakfasty sizzle. When done right, scrapple emerges crispy on the outside and tender on the inside. Back in 1904, a weekly magazine called Leslie's captured scrapple's essence: "Scrapple is to Philadelphia what baked beans is to Boston." The article went on to explain that, in fall and winter, every Philadelphian devours scrapple for breakfast at least three times a week — and that people all over America were beginning to do the same. Philadelphia's scrapple factories were shipping loaves to every state — scrapple was becoming a breakfast staple with nationwide popularity. That nationwide popularity has since waned, but scrapple holds a special place in the hearts (and breakfast plates) of those in the Mid-Atlantic. Area grocers still carry scrapple (with updated standards of FDA-approved animal parts). Habbersett is one brand keeping the tradition alive. Making scrapple since 1863, the company continues regional distribution of loaves packed with pork broth, pork, pork skins, yellow corn meal, wheat flour, pork hearts, pork livers, salt, and spices. Meanwhile, the rest of the country might lean towards sausage or bacon, blissfully unaware of scrapple's sizzle. Scrambled brains and eggs once swaggered onto the breakfast table with the same confidence bacon has today. Whether sourced from cows, pigs, or lambs, these brains weren't for shock value. The brain was seen as a nutritious part of the animal — why waste it? Across continents and centuries, people have happily eaten brains. And up until just a few decades ago, scrambling brains with eggs was a classic American breakfast. Preparing brains read like a spa itinerary: cold soak, salty-vinegar hot soak, another cold soak. The process was meant to whiten the brain, make it firmer, and prevent spoilage. After that prep, the brain was ready for scrambling with eggs, and likely some milk, salt, pepper, and onion. Egg with brains spread beyond farm kitchens once canned brains hit grocery store shelves. No butchering required. But canned convenience was no match for changing tastes and the cholesterol charts of the 1950s. For many, "offal" started sounding suspiciously like "awful." Today, eating brain — once just another cut of meat — now makes many Americans decidedly squeamish. But if it's not making you squeamish and instead leaves you wondering, can you still buy canned brains in the United States? The answer is yes. Boone Brands sells Rose Pork Brains — cans of fully cooked pork brains in milk gravy (a useful presoak to remove the blood). They're stocked in select stores and, as with most things, available online. One click and — boom — your pantry suddenly has a higher IQ. At the turn of the 20th century, grapefruit was hyped as a miracle cure-all. During the 1919 flu epidemic, a "flu diet" made grapefruit so popular that it became the 1920s equivalent of toilet paper during the COVID-19 pandemic. In the 1930s, the "grapefruit diet" had people eating the citrus before every meal. But eventually, grapefruit settled into a role as a bright and tart part of a balanced breakfast. People sliced one in half, sprinkled on some sugar (a must back then — today's varieties tend to be sweeter than grapefruit of yore), and dug in with those little serrated spoons that no one uses for anything else. Then came the 1950s — grapefruit's true golden age. Cookbooks and magazines shared recipes for broiled grapefruit, which became a '50s classic. And there was grapefruit Alaska, a baffling concoction of grapefruit, whipped cream or ice cream, and a meringue topping. It sounds like dessert for breakfast, but let's just say grapefruit Alaska makes Mashed's list of "Foods From The 1950s That Should Never Come Back" for good reason. Nowadays, grapefruit has lost the citrus spotlight — it's more of a nostalgic cameo than a breakfast staple. The USDA reports that per-person availability of grapefruit in the U.S. dropped a whopping 87% from 1970 to 2022. Why the dramatic decline? USDA blames it on consumer demand — we prefer the convenience of grab-and-go breakfasts and easy-to-peel tangerines, which are sweeter, smaller, and easier to eat. In the breakfast citrus showdown, the little guy wins. Take your average bowl of cereal, toss it in a skillet with butter and seasoning, and boom — you're back in the 1980s with a bowlful that's toasty and totally tubular. Cheerios offered up the recipe in 1982, and it's unclear why it fell out of fashion (unlike shoulder pads, which deserved their exit). Here's how to make the original: Melt ¼ cup butter (or margarine if you're feeling retro) in a 10-inch skillet over low heat. Add 4 cups of Cheerios. Cook and stir for 2 to 3 minutes until the O's are well coated. Sprinkle with salt and serve warm or cool. Either way, they're yum! But just like hairstyles in the '80s, people couldn't resist messing with the recipe. Some people skipped the salt, opting instead to mix 1 teaspoon of Worcestershire sauce in with the butter. Others threw in Parmesan cheese and garlic powder for an extra savory kick. Then there were those who ditched the savory and took Hot Buttered O's into purely sweet territory, like Cinnamon Sugar Hot Buttered O's. Start with the butter, then stir in ½ teaspoon of vanilla. After cooking the Cheerios, toss them in a bowl with ¼ cup of sugar and 1 teaspoon of ground cinnamon. Real rebels ditched the plain Cheerios and replaced them with things like Apple-Cinnamon Cheerios. Whatever direction you go, Hot Buttered O's are a throwback treat that proves cereal isn't just for cold milk. In the 1970s, quiche was a go-to breakfast and brunch option. You could crack open almost any issue of Southern Living from that era and find quiche. The New York Times even called it "one of the decade's signal foods." But at some point, it lost its signal. In 1982, quiche's image problem even made the title of Bruce Feirstein's cheeky bestseller, "Real Men Don't Eat Quiche." (Spoiler alert: real men can and do eat quiche — especially when there's bacon involved.) Still, quiche has had its comeback moments. The Los Angeles Times reported a revival in 1995, although they noted that sometimes, it had to go undercover as a "tart" to win people over. One of the most popular quiches during the 1970s was Quiche Lorraine — a rich crust filled with Swiss cheese, eggs, cream, and bacon. Wondering why it was so popular? Give a Quiche Lorraine recipe a try and see for yourself. It might be retro, but do cheese and bacon really ever go out of style? Your guests will love it — just make sure to call it a tart. In the U.S., the word "porridge" mostly pops up when someone's telling the tale of Goldilocks breaking and entering. But we eat plenty of it. Porridge is basically what happens when you take grains or legumes and simmer them in water or milk until they're soft. But here in the States, we usually call it "hot cereal," or we get more specific — oatmeal (porridge from oats), grits (corn), Cream of Wheat (wheat). That said, the big bubbling pot of porridge on the stovetop? It's not the kitchen mainstay it once was. And honestly, that tracks. Even back in the early 1900s, a public health bulletin admitted that porridge was kind of a pain — long cooking times, doesn't keep well, generally needy. Still, people loved it for breakfast. One porridge in particular took the early 20th-century breakfast table by storm — Wheatena. By the 1920s, this toasted wheat cereal had become a pantry staple. It was the "3-minute cereal." Just boil it in water and you were on your way. Of course, breakfast habits changed and cartoon mascots entered kitchens on sugary cereal boxes. Suddenly, Wheatena wasn't quite as exciting. It's still around, though it's probably more familiar to vintage cereal collectors than to the average breakfast eater. Nowadays, Wheatena is microwavable, oats are often soaked overnight in the refrigerator, and you can cook grits in an instant pot. If Goldilocks were to pop in for breakfast, she'd be hard-pressed to find her traditional porridge bubbling away on the stove. Read the original article on Mashed.
ABC News
11-05-2025
- Business
- ABC News
Are cash vs card-only businesses the future? Here's the impact on consumers
Notes and coins aren't just favoured at this inner west Sydney restaurant — they're king. Nestled near the gelato booth lies an ATM machine inside the Leichhardt venue, with "cash only" signs on display. Cash has been the primary source of payment here since 1952. "We're just continuing a legacy," Bar Italia owner Con Damouras said. There's no chance of skim, light or soy milk in your coffee either. Mr Damouras prefers the "old school trattoria" approach. The business doesn't take credit cards. Instead, an in-house ATM is available, which has a $2.50 withdrawal fee, or there are other outlets along Leichhardt's main strip. Post-pandemic, Mr Damouras installed an online payment form customers can use instore, though cash remains the predominant payment method. "Some days people come in and say to you, 'Oh you're a tax thief, you're not paying the right tax'. It doesn't work that way when you've got a high-profile business like this … we always have done the right thing," he said. "We keep our prices low, and we don't want to pay bank fees." Since 2017, Pablo & Rusty's Sydney CBD venue has been cashless. "Initially there was some curiosity around it … questions around our motivation," operations manager and co-owner Chris Tate said. "I think the majority of customers understood there was a degree of speed and convenience that resulted in us going cashless." "Efficient service", no awkward cash handling and counting at the till and hygiene influenced the decision as well as operational challenges associated with holding cash, Mr Tate said. "It's safer for our staff … we're not having to hold cash on site and send staff to the banks at the end of the shift." While visitors can use cash on their first visit if unaware of the rule, it's ultimately a card-only business model. Surcharges aren't passed onto takeaway orders, but for those who dine in, there are "small fees attached" for using the table ordering app service, Mr Tate said. "We understand this can be a sensitive issue for some customers. It's not about making a political statement. It's a practical and pragmatic one." Lyla Zhang, associate professor in Macquarie University's Department of Economics, said while cash use had decreased, it still served a critical purpose. "Cash use has declined to about 10 per cent of transactions in Australia — especially for older Australians or people living in remote areas," she said. "It all comes to people's preferences and their circumstances. When it comes to cash benefits, Dr Zhang said it helped people stick to a budget and avoid withdrawal transaction fees. Convenience wise though, card payments are the more streamlined option — but come with a catch. "The card offers convenience, transparent transactions, rewards programs but it exposes people to overspending and surcharge fees," Dr Zhang said. "Let's say the average household spending in Australia is around $3,000 per month. If the surcharge is only 1 per cent, this still means $30 per month for the family. "This sounds very small, but over time they can accumulate." The Reserve Bank of Australia estimated Australians lose nearly $1 billion in surcharges a year. Although the use of digital-only payments is likely to lead to paying more fees, Dr Zhang said consumers should simply "be aware" of surcharges. "As an experimental and behavioural economist, I think we should all make informed decisions about which type of payment we want to to choose. For Mr Damouras, he carries both card and cash when shopping or dining, aware that "if that's their policy" either way, he will follow it. Mr Tate added that it should continue to be up to individual businesses to choose what currency they primarily accept. As Ms Zhang said: "There's no one-size-fits-all solution." In November , the federal government announced it would mandate that businesses must accept cash when selling essential items from 2026 onwards. While details are to be ironed out post-election, Mr Tate remained unsure if his cafe would be deemed "essential" and therefore subject to the rule. "If we're having to cover the additional cost of handling cash … that poses significant challenges for small businesses," he said. In a statement an Australian Competition and Consumer Commission (ACCC) spokesperson said that currently "businesses can choose which payment types they accept" though transparency is key. "Businesses should be clear and up-front about the types of payments they accept, any applicable payment surcharges, and the total minimum price payable for their goods and services."
Yahoo
11-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
26 Pics That Prove Your Mom Has Always Been Cooler Than You
One of the best parts of getting older is realizing that your mom is a highly impressive, badass woman who was living a rich, interesting life long before you came along. (But hey, bonus points for raising you.) With that in mind, we asked our readers to share their favorite old-school pictures of their moms. They did not disappoint. When your mom is this effortlessly cool, it's an honor and a privilege to be called a chip off the ol' block. Note: Some readers requested that we use only their first names to protect their privacy. Submissions have been edited for style and clarity. Courtesy of Odessa Fields "My mom, Patricia Fields Neubert, was an instructor pilot for the Army at Fort Rucker in Alabama in the 1980s. She had a rule: No cameras in the cockpit. A student of hers took that picture during his flight time. She failed him for the day, but she kept that picture. I love this picture because she still gives me this look! Nobody can say she isn't a badass." -- Odessa Fields Courtesy of Michelle Low "My mom, Fung, giving you Hana-realness back in '83." -- Michelle Low Courtesy of Lisa Vidal "This is my mother Lorraine's high school graduation photo from 1972. I love her hairstyle. She told me it was one of the easiest styles to do. I grew up always seeing my mother as extremely stylish, and this photo only reinforces that she has always taken pride in her look. She is half-black and half-white and French Canadian." -- Lisa Vidal Courtesy of the Wards of Liverpool and the Johanssons of Karlstad "My amazing mum, Ricia, escorting Queen Elizabeth! The photo was taken in Northampton in the late '90s." -- Magnus Courtesy of Fatima "That's my mother, Constansa, on the left. The picture was taken in 1969 in Mexico, when she was about to graduate from nursing school. I love seeing her pictures. They take me back in time whenever I go through them." -- Fatima Courtesy of Thomas Liles "This photo of my mom, Dian Liles, was taken in Weiser, Idaho, at the annual Fiddle Festival in 1973 by a family friend. She would have been 22 years old in this photo, long before I was born. I really like this photo because my mother looks genuinely and completely in the moment. Her smile is great and it reminds me that she was (and is) a truly beautiful woman and not just a mom. And it's nice to be reminded that people can actually get together and enjoy something collectively without recording it for social media. It's just a little slice of life, you know?" -- Thomas Liles Courtesy of Cat "The picture was taken while my mom, Lee, was in business school at the University of Virginia, probably 1987 or 1988. She was celebrating getting passing grades and staying in school! I love that it looks like a John Hughes movie and that we look really similar." -- Cat Courtesy of Cindy Black "This was taken around 1976 at the Ontario Raceway in California. I love it because it includes my mom (to the right) and my soon-to-be husband's mom (to the left). That's me in the middle!" -- Cindy Black GoProDad "This is my mother at her piano back home in Iraq in 1962. Her name is Shamiran Gabriel." -- Ramsin Courtesy of Olivia "The picture is taken right before my mom, Charlotta, and her sister went to a school dance in Västergötland, Sweden, in 1992. She is 20 years old in the picture, the same age I am right now. What I love most about the pic is how happy and beautiful she looks. She's terminally ill with brain cancer at age 45 and only has a few weeks left. I have this photo saved in my phone so I can look at it in the future when I'm sad and remind myself how beautiful and happy she was." -- Olivia Courtesy of Ony Dozie "My superwoman Joy, aka disco queen." -- Ony Dozie Courtesy of Laura Coffman "Here's my family hiking the Porcupine Mountains in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan (before it was a hipster retreat). My mom's holding a kid on her back and any other random thing given to her -- a picture of grace and love as dad sips a cold one wearing his 'I'm with stupid' shirt. They've been married 50 years." -- Laura Coffman Courtesy of Alex Whittingham "Me and my mom, Marina Smith." -- Alex Whittingham Courtesy of Anukriti "My mother, Anita, in the early '80s on the day she got her doctorate a year and a half year earlier than her peers. The pic was taken by her very proud parents. She still has the sari saved, and I hope to wear it on the day I finish my doctorate." -- Anukriti Courtesy of Isabella Breen "Here's my mother, Brigid, and her sisters in the summer of 1970. She's on the far left. She was 18 at the time and she's wearing a dress handmade by her own mother in the 1940s. This beautiful woman has worked so hard to provide for me and my own sister, and I'm proud to have such a groovy mom." -- Isabella Breen Courtesy of Josh Inkenbrandt "The photo of my mom, Patricia, was taken in the late '70s or early '80s. I was visiting my parents a couple of summers ago and we were going through old photos, which is where I found this one. I like it because it was before my poor mom got swept up in the fashion of the '80s and '90s! After this, it was all big hair and shoulder pads." -- Josh Inkenbrandt Courtesy of Maddie Wilson "This picture of my mom, Maureen Wilson, was taken around 1974 or '75 by one of her parents. My momma would have been around 20 or 21. I think she is so beautiful. Her hair was down to her mid-back, and I wish I could grow my hair that long! But I'm actually adopted from birth, so I don't have her genes." -- Maddie Wilson Courtesy of Shawna Humphreys "Here's my mom, Jeannie Hester, and my older brother, Derrick Hester. It was taken in Owensboro, Kentucky, in 1976." -- Shawna Humphreys Courtesy of Andrew Moise "This is a photo of my mom, Lisa Grimmonpré Palmer, in 1980 after she won the Miss McHenry County (Illinois, just outside of Chicago) beauty pageant at age 18. This photo hangs at the house of my recently passed grandmother. My mom is my favorite woman on this earth and a great friend." -- Andrew Moise Courtesy of Rachael Williams "The picture was taken in 1976 before my mom Sheila's prom, and I love her radiant smile and, of course, her amazing afro! Growing up seeing her hair natural inspired me to do the same." -- Rachael Williams Courtesy of Alen Forney "The picture was taken of my mom, Karma Forney, somewhere in Casas Grandes, Mexico, in the late '60s. This is probably one of my favorite pictures of her. She fought breast cancer for over seven years. She had an amazing spirit and lived an incredible life." -- Alen Forney Courtesy of Alexandra "My mother, Tiffany, and her Volvo in the summer of 1989." -- Alexandra Courtesy of Elizabeth Mutz "My mom, Lana Wilson, at 24, with our dog Abby in Algonquin, Illinois. I love this picture because it's one of very few pictures of my mom from when she was young, and it's the happiest and only candid of her." -- Elizabeth Mutz Courtesy of Nathan Hawrot "This is my mom Dianna Hawrot's senior high school picture from 1969. It's my favorite one of her. I think she looks like a hair model in an advertisement. She was a great person and this photo does her justice." -- Nathan Hawrot Courtesy of Basma El "Here's my mom, Khadija M., holding my older sister and my dad in 1987." -- Basma El Courtesy of Toby "This is my mom Joyce's high school graduation pic in the '50s in Georgia. She had a crooked finger and when she pointed it at us, we'd move it over so the tip was pointed correctly. She couldn't spank or punish you if you said, 'But I love you mom.' She was the warmest mom to me, my sister Cindy and my brother Tony." -- Toby 17 Pics That Prove Your Parents Were Way Cooler Than You It May Sound Bad, But This Is The 1 Thing That Made Mother's Day Better For Me Don't Panic — These 28 On-Sale Mother's Day Gifts Will Still Get To You In Time
