I woke up this morning thinking of Beechnut baby food.
When I was a child, too old to eat baby food, but young enough to still be charming, I loved the jarred meat, in all of it's graypink fineness, and my grandmother would buy me the tiny jars, for a treat.
The label pictured a jaunty cartoon elephant, wearing blue overalls and a striped train conductor hat.
One hand was thrown up, as if waving.
I thought that the jar contained elephant meat, which my grandmother thought was funny.
So when we went shopping, I would ask for elephant meat, and she would oblige by buying it, and then feeding it to me with a small silver spoon, even though I was much too old.