Somehow we managed to sober up the Doberman long enough to keep him from slurping down our alcoholic step mom's turtle soup. Uncle Lem carried in the pink Christmas tree that announced the men in our family lacked a manly essence.
My cousin Norm came in from the yard where he had been taunting the dog who outweighed him by 40 pounds. My step mom sang The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down in a key and pitch that caused neighbors to call police. Nevertheless, my dad was beaming with his extended family all together, including a bunch still arriving in campers from the surrounding mountains. I felt certain this would be the year we finally got Rachel married off to Angus, a giant kind man who chopped wood with fervor.
No comments:
Post a Comment