My dad made lunch and dinner on Sundays. My mother never really liked to cook. At about 40 years old, my mother quit cooking for the most part, and my parents went out to dinner almost every night. My dad liked going out because he got to order what he wanted to eat, and it was placed in front of him hot. He always complained if the dinner wasn’t all on the table at once and hot. On Sundays, Dad made a massive salad for lunch with at least four or five vegetables, and shrimp was often added to the salad when available. Once, my friend Amanda came over to have lunch with us. She looked at the salad in front of her and looked at it with disgust. “What’s in this?’ She asked, upset.
“POO POO!”, My dad yelled back. Dad didn’t like his creation to be criticized. I can’t remember if she ate it or not Dad would barbecue chicken on our grill outside for dinner, usually accompanied by some grilled corn. This was always a challenge to eat because Dad would usually burn the outside of the chicken, and the inside wouldn’t be cooked through. The corn would often also be burned, but since Dad didn’t like to have his creations criticized and my mother didn’t care because she didn’t have to cook the meal, we ate the food anyway. Somehow, we lived to be adults. Oh yes, we always went to church on Sunday. I did as an adult, but now I don’t. I was lucky because I have always had extraordinary ministers in my life. Sadly, now I don’t.
Until Next Time…
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