We’re heading off to Atlantic City in a few hours for a weekend of gambling, food, drinks, family oh and a show with the cast of Impractical Jokers!

So I’m not cooking tonight. I like my breaks from cooking because I come back to my kitchen totally ready to try a million a new things.

So I don’t have a food post, but I do have a story.

Back in the late 70s/early 80s, my great aunt, my Auntie Anna worked at Orange Savings Bank. I should take a minute to note that my grandma and her sisters are Romano women. Stubborn, independent, and hard-headed. And I’m just like them : )

So in a time when a lot of women stayed home with the kids, they all worked. Hard.

So anyway, my Auntie Anna worked at the bank. And while she worked there, they ran this promotion. When you opened an account, you got this little guy.

Ta da! Give us your money and we’ll give you this 70s-fab ceramic gingerbread man.

Now, every single woman in my family has one. Mom’s is on the counter next to the stove to rest spoons on while she cooks. Ditto grandma’s. My mom’s sister’s has traveled from house to house with her, got broken, and was even glued back together.

When I moved into my own kitchen, I was pissed.

I didn’t have a gingerbread man.

I know. Major sad face.

I felt out of the loop.

I felt like I didn’t have that little family ties that all the other women had.

Until.

My dad cleaned out my grandma’s attic and found one!

That little guy up there? Yup. He’s mine.

He’s on my counter next to my stove.

Where he sits in the kitchens of all of the other women in my family.