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Oh Well
Don't know if it was Thanksgiving or Christmas but here goes.
Dad, who grew up in Maine, did logging and ran bootleg whiskey during prohibition from Canada into Maine and then rode the 'dead mans rail' from Maine to Connecticut where he met my mom used to have a few drinks once or twice a year. Mainly on Thanksgiving or Christmas.
Well this one holiday, I knew he was sipping and sipping and then we were called for dinner. There was Grammy and my Uncles and aunt sitting there with my Dad, Mom, my little brother (now 57) and myself.
Dad filled one plate and then a second. He then pulled some more mashed potatoes over onto his plate and buttered them and put gravy on them.
He picked up his fork, was staring directly at the potatoes and got this strange look in his eyes. His head slowly lowered more and more until his face was in the mound of potatoes.
We could only look and start smiling and then someone giggled and then the entire family was laughing so hard it was like at a George Carlin show.
Dad woke up in an hour or two and was mildly mad because we ate dinner and didn't wake him from his nap to eat.
The Ole Sarge
(I'll miss Mom and Dad - Great Friends)
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