Gobble, Gobble

My long time friend was over for Thanksgiving yesterday and were remembering one meal in particular that was in 1967.

I ate over his house that year, and his mother cooked, and his father and Uncle Benny were there as well. My surrogate family.

Now his father was about 20 years older than his mother, his second wife, and Uncle Benny, the father's older brother, was a bachelor, born in 1889, a World War I veteran with many memories of helping French women get a good night's sleep.

My friend's mother was a very good cook and the meal was great. It didn't take long after the meal for his father and Uncle Benny to be sound asleep in their armchairs. As my friend and I were going out to shoot pool his mother stopped at the door a bit just before closing it and looked at us and looked back at two old guys sleeping and digesting and said, "I hope I don't have to call Campbell's twice tonight."

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