Turkey, ham and other oddities
Monday, I arrived at the Little Professor’s Boy Scouts meeting on time, and he had his uniform shirt (tucked-in!), book and dues.
There should have been a celebration.
Sadly, I didn’t even get a soft-shoe shuffle from the Scouts. They must not have realized just how impressive this was.
They’re planning another overnight camp-out. I haven’t told the Long Suffering Husband yet, but he’s going. The last time I sent him on a camp-out, it coincided with his birthday. He was a touch grumpy about it. This isn’t my fault; the Scoutmaster schedules the trips.
And I don’t sleep on the ground. Nor do I go without coffee in the morning.
The Little Professor begged me to go on this overnight trip, since we would be sleeping indoors, albeit on the floor.
“Momma, please, please, please?”
“No. You know how unpleasant I am in the morning before I’ve had my coffee. Something disastrous would happen.”
“But then you could write a column about it.”
“No column is worth the lives of your fellow Scouts.”
Bits and pieces:
Sassy Saint was explaining one of her teachers claimed her future was “as bright as the sun.” The Professor asked if her teacher knew the sun was going to collapse some day.
We took Grandmama shopping recently, and she kept escaping. I’ve told Sass a million times to keep a sharp eye on her – she’s squirrelly. Every time I turned around, she’d disappeared. She’s awfully fast for an old lady with a bad hip.
The LSH had a birthday Sunday – I’d tell you how old he is, but then you might try to guess my age. You just need to know that he’s older. Much older.
Anyway, we were buying cake mix, because the kids wanted to bake a cake for him. Homemade is more loving or something. They chose German chocolate. I wanted to buy pecan-and-coconut frosting, but Grandmama wouldn’t let me.
“LSH doesn’t like that,” she said.
“Yes, he does, actually.”
“No, he doesn’t.”
“You’re confusing LSH with Grampy Grumpy,” I explained. “LSH does like it.”
“He doesn’t like coconut.”
“No, Grampy Grumpy doesn’t like coconut.”
“Buy chocolate. Men like chocolate.”
So I bought chocolate. It wasn’t worth the argument. When I asked him about it later, the LSH was mystified.
“I’ve eaten that tons of times,” he said. “I’ve bought pecan-and-coconut frosting.”
I’m taking a German chocolate cake with pecan-and-coconut icing to the next extended family dinner. Then I am going to make him eat a piece – in front of Grandmama.
Speaking of the LSH and his eating peculiarities, he doesn’t like turkey. When we first started dating, oh-so-many years ago, I was preparing to drag him to Thanksgiving dinner and I mentioned this to Grandmama. So, that year, in addition to the turkey, she made a small ham. Just for him.
Every year the ham gets bigger and bigger. And more elaborate. It’s dwarfing the turkey now. The boys don’t complain, because they’re more than happy to dine on turkey and ham, but I’m annoyed.
I’ve never liked turkey, and she knows that.
She loves LSH best.
(Wallace-Minger, a Weirton resident, is community editor of The Weirton Daily Times, and can be contacted at email@example.com)