Red, large, watery...disgusting.
Mom put those in almost everything she made. It made supper not always enjoyable, but I ate. Luckily, I had something to distract me.
"Hi, girls! What y'all up to? Eatin'? You eat it all up now."
The chair scrapes out and he sits down.
"Well," he says, after filling his plate, "what'd y'all do today?"
Shouts of "I played wif my dolls!", "I drew a picture!", "I didn't get into trouble!" go 'round the table. He smiles.
"That's good. That's real good. Well, I heard a new one today."
"Drum!" my mom warns.
We all get quiet, looking at Dad out of the corner of our eyes and trying very hard not to grin.
Mom gets up to get something for Bill. Dad leans in and whispers, "Did you hear the one about the dog that walks into-"
"Drummond!" Mom yells, her head popping up from behind the refrigerator door. "No inappropriate jokes!"
We sit back, but we know the funny isn't over. We eat some and the silence stretches. Mom comes back to the table and begins to feed Bill.
"This dog walks into a bar and says-"
"Drummond Atterbury stop telling these girls your jokes!"
He leans back and grins at us. And then he winks. Even as young as we are we know he's flirting with our mom and --- he's gonna tell us that joke later. It's just fun to watch them argue. And he NEVER stopped. No matter how hot and bothered she got.
He leans across the table again. "Hey, Maria," he whispers.
Mom pauses and raises an eyebrow at him.
"Come hear for a second."
Maria scoots off her chair and stops beside Dad. We are all waiting. I can barely contain my excitement, my legs are swinging back and forth like they're wiper blades on steroids.
"Pull my finger!" he tells her.
"Drummond!" Mom yells, popping up from her chair, but she is too late and a very inappropriate sound rips through the air.