Ranch Potatoes

The story of my Ranch Potatoes goes like this. I can remember my mom making them anytime I was sick because I wasn't a soup kid, so she made me ranch potatoes instead. They weren't home made, they were box potatoes but I think that's what made it different. I can remember the smell of the butter boiling in the salt water and how weird the flakes looked once mixed with the butter salt water. Kind of like snow. And like magic the flakes slowly start to become mashed potatoes. It isn't until after my mom has the right texture of the potatoes, does she add the hidden valley ranch. Its usually an estimated guess of how much we use. The whole process takes about five ten minutes but its meaningful. It may sound silly for a bowl of ranch potatoes to have so much meaning and worth but they do. It meant she cared enough to make a snack for me. It was filled with love and kindness. Now that I am older, I am the one who makes Ranch Potatoes for my mom when she is sick or ill. I recently had the experience of taking care of her after she had her deviated septum surgery. She had to sleep sitting up for a week and couldn't bend or do much of any kind of activity. She also had a bland diet due to the medication making her sick. So I made her ranch potatoes a lot.
It was hard to remember how she would make them for me but I hoped for the best. The first try came out a little soupy rather than fluffy mash. I dumped it and started over. This time I read the box for guidelines.
I had to boil some water with salt and butter. Once that had all blended together I added the amount of flakes needed for two servings and stirred. If it was too soupy I just added more flakes. Finally I had gotten them how I wanted and was able to add the final touch, the ranch dressing. It felt like our potatoes had come full circle. She made them for me and now I make them for her. These days she tells me that I make them better than her. Although she also feels that way about my eggs