It's Toonie Tuesday at KFC

Today is Tuesday, which means it's Toonie Tuesday at Kentucky Fried Chicken. Long gone are the days where you can get 2 pieces of chicken and fries for $2. Now the same meal will cost you $2.99 (tax included).

Tuesdays were always special to my dad. Probably because of the Toonie Tuesday deal at KFC. My dad would take the bus to my brother's house to help with the up keep of their house (yes, that is how amazing my dad was to all of us) and on his way back home, he would pick up a meal or 2 from KFC on Tuesdays. My dad was a peculiar man. His love of fried chicken only extended to the fried chicken skin. Once in a blue moon, you may see him eat an entire piece of chicken, skin and meat together...how novel of an idea daddy! But most often than not, the skin of the chicken is usually missing. The skinless fried chicken would sit in its box in the fridge for a couple of days until my mom could stand it no longer and she would eat the chicken herself.

My dad had various health issues ranging from high cholesterol to high sugar levels, so fried chicken became a contraband item at my parents'. That didn't mean that famous red and white KFC box didn't make it into the house. My dad would still visit the good ol' colonel and pick up a box. When my mom would sarcastically ask how a box of fried chicken magically appeared in the fridge, my dad's reply was simple, "I bought it for Darwin." My dad loved my husband for many reasons, but I am almost positive that my husband won my dad over simply with their shared loved for fried chicken. Not just any fried chicken, but KFC fried chicken.

Initially you would think my dad was an incredible father in law to my husband (which I think he is, by the way), who thought of his son in law while at KFC. However, upon closer inspection of this box of KFC, you would notice quite quickly that the fried chicken skin is missing from one of the piece of chicken. Did we get a piece of defective fried chicken from the Colonel? Nope, it's my daddy's way of branding the chicken. My husband, the wonderful man that he is, would happily eat the skinless chicken and mumble thanks to my dad while he's scarfing it down.

This skinless fried chicken scenario didn't happen every Tuesday, but it happened often enough it became a family joke. Whenever we saw a KFC box in the fridge and without peeking, we instinctively knew that box was intended for my husband and at least 1 piece of chicken would be missing its skin. My mom loved my dad dearly and when he couldn't pick up a box of KFC on his own, my mom would pick up a box for him, as a treat, although the story never changed....he would always say, "It's for Darwin."

My mom's sister and brother came over from Hong Kong shortly after my dad's passing, to be with my mom. It's amazing to know that family will be there for you during the most heartbreaking and earth shattering time. On one of the Tuesdays while they were here, my mom picked up some KFC for them. I think going into KFC this particular day was extremely hard for her, but at the same time I think it gave her a sense of comfort. She was no longer there picking up chicken for my dad, but for her brother and sister. I would like to think it gave her a sense of routine. That afternoon, we all sat around the table enjoying the chicken. My aunt and uncle had the audacity to tear off their fried chicken skin and toss it aside. My mom and I giggled. We said, "If only dad was here to see that. What a sight that would be for him."

Just for the record, I am a Churchs' chicken gal.  I have always been. There use to be one 1/2 a block from my parents' house. When I was younger my dad would DRIVE me there to pick up a few pieces if I was craving it....Yup, I did type drive. That was the kind of man my daddy was. His motto was, "why walk when you can drive." My mom had always said my dad preferred the fried chicken from Churchs over KFC, but when he could no longer drive and taking the bus was his only option of getting around, KFC became his go to chicken joint. I love how convenient it was for him that a KFC happens to be along his bus route.

KFC reminds me of my dad. Ever since his passing, there isn't a Tuesdays that goes by where I don't think of him and the Toonie Tuesday deal. If you're having KFC on a Tuesday, have it in honour of my dad. I would appreciate that.

I miss you so much, daddy! I'll be sure to save you some fried chicken skin.

Ethan feeding Gong Gong pistachios, not fried chicken skin!

Hello Papaya Girl

Lets get one thing straight, I don't actually like papayas. However, if you go through my early school work, you might find a piece of creative writing written by a 7 or 8 year old me that would state otherwise. My mom has written evidence that states I like papayas. I don't remember the exact wording, but  in that piece of creative writing assignment, I wrote about how much I love eating papayas and how much my family loves eating papayas. I swear, I've never liked eating papayas. I still don't like papayas. Not even the delicious Maui papayas we came across during a Hawaiian vacation 2 years ago.

Why have I decided to name this blog, "Hello Papaya Girl?" My dad loved papayas. He likes it fresh, he likes it in his soup, he simply loves the smell of them.

I am not a writer. I am a reader. I don't like papayas. My dad loved papayas. And I love my dad. I am the quintessential 'daddy's little girl' and I recently lost him to secondary liver cancer. To be exact, I lost him exactly 5 weeks and 1 day ago.

I wanted an outlet to express my grief, to share my daddy's legacy and to help me move forward. So here I am . . . Hello Papaya Girl!

I am one of those lucky ones that had never truly experienced deep grief, until the day my dad was diagnosed with cancer and was only given 3-6 months to live. He lived for 5 weeks. I grieved every day during those 5 weeks, while still taking care of him. I grieved after he passed and I am still grieving now. I never thought I would have to read, "In Loving Memory," followed by my dad's name.

Grieving is a new experience for me. I have gone through losing my grandparents, but the loss is not quite the same as losing one of your own parent. To me, he wasn't 'just' a parent, he was my daddy. He was the man I would follow everywhere he went, when I was a little girl. If he was going to McDonald's with his friends on a Friday night to hang out, I was there. Those were one of the best Friday nights memories I have. I would get unlimited pop from the self-serve dispenser; my dad's friends would always have candies for me; and my daddy would always always always buy me an apple pie or if I was a good girl that week I would get a box of McDonaldland cookies.

I was spoiled rotten by my daddy. He would drive me to school when I couldn't wake up early enough to get there in time, which happened quite frequently. He bought me my first car (a used one) when I turned 18, got my driver license and was accepted into university. He would wake up early during the Winter months so he could scrape my windows and warm up my car every school day during the first year of my University life so I could get to my 8:30am psychology class on time. I didn't know how to pump my own gas until I was 20 because my daddy always made sure the car was filled. Even after I moved out and started a family of my own, he would still call regularly around 10-10:30 in the morning asking how I was, how my boys were and if we'll be coming home for dinner this week. I miss those calls. I miss his voice. I miss hearing the special nickname he had for me.

My dad had taught me so much. He taught me how to love: know your worth and never settle for anything less. He taught me the golden rule: treat others how you would like to be treated. He taught me how to approach life: work hard and the rewards will come. He taught me gizzards can be yummy if prepared correctly. Chicken feet are always yummy no matter how they are prepared.

I am beyond lucky to have had him as my dad. I am lucky that he had the chance to meet his 2 beautiful grandsons and declare which grandson is his absolute favourite (although I know he truly loved the both of them equally.) I am also very fortunate to have married someone my dad not only approved of, but truly loved him as one of his own.

I love you so so much, daddy. I miss you every single day. I can't wait to share with the world what an incredible man you were and how your legacy is living on through me and your grandsons.

My daddy's 75th birthday family photo