Mom in a Huff
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Loading ...Sunday dinner with my mother, Adah, my father, Fred, and my three siblings was always a lively event. On one occasion, all of us, except my mother, were in a silly mood, and we began requesting, in rhyme, items at the table.
“Please pass the meat, Pete.”
“May I have a potatah, Adah.”
“I’d give you the moon for a spoon.”
After several minutes of this, my mother had heard enough.
“Stop this nonsense right now! Let’s have some meaningful conversation!” she shouted.
“It’s Sunday, and I would like to enjoy my dinner with some GOOD conversation and not all this foolish chatter.”
The she sat down, still in a huff, turned to my father and snapped, “Pass the bread, Fred!”
