Damned childrens!
Payback's a bitch, gentlemen!
Anyway...The Flea and the Black Angel got off all right, headed back to New Bern. I loaded them down with leftovers. Now all I need to do is invite the entire Russian Army and I will be able to get rid of the rest.
My grandfather used to say, "Remember my son, when counting your cash, that one day of turkey brings six days of hash!"
For years I thought this was meant as a good thing. I loved Dad's turkey hash. Only recently did I find out other people did not share this viewpoint and would be sick of hash by the second day! Oh well.
Dad's hash wasn't probably "real" hash by definition, but it is good...Chop up the leftover turkey, throw in the leftover stuffing and gravy, heat it all up and serve with cranberry sauce. There's just nothing quite like it...or maybe it was the fact that Dad would dance around the kitchen, his right hand up, index finger pointing skyward as he jitterbugged and sang "Big Daddy to the Rescue" off-key.
It reminded me of all the breakfasts he made every morning of our childhood...scrambled eggs with a glop of condensed mushroom soup and shredded cheddar cheese, bacon and raisin toast...He always sang big band tunes and shuffled between the refridgerator and the stove with a modified, slow jitterbugging step.
How could anyone keep a rotten morning mood in the face of that show?
He'd serve us breakfast while Rocky and Bullwinkle raced around on the T.V, never breaking stride, always humming....and...now that I think about it...always farting. Ever so often he'd cut one, then act like he had no idea where the sound came from! We'd all giggle while he pretended not to know what we were laughing at.
Funny the things you remember when you sit down at the keyboard and let your fingers do the talking...
What a dad! Jitterbugging, singing and farting...what more could a little kid ask for on a school morning?
1 comment:
Your dad sounds like a hoot!
I see your dog is just as spoiled as ours :)
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