Spills
Last Sunday we were out at a camp in our area for a friend's birthday party. Our two youngest children were with us, as the party was for our daughter's friend.
For dinner, we roasted hot dogs on a fire and then loaded them up with ketchup and mustard. We roasted our hands and faces along the way, as we turned our weenies and waited for them to bubble and acquire just the right shiny brown hue.
Our paper plates were heavy with the dogs and chips and bean salad. Some of us sat low in Adirondack chairs, leaning forward so as not to dribble anything down our fronts.
Kids sat around on low stone walls, dropping barbecue chips on the ground. If only a dog had been there, ready to clean up after us.
Our 15-year-old son stood behind the circle of chairs. As he sipped his drink, his uneven paper plate balanced precariously on on his forearm, one edge of the plate supported against his abdomen.
I heard a soft thud and a splat, and looked over to see his plate upside down on the ground, bean salad scattered around. A red blotch of ketchup scrawled down the front of his white shirt (borrowed from older brother!). It looked at though he had been shot and bled through his stomach.
He grimaced as laughter around him erupted.
For dinner, we roasted hot dogs on a fire and then loaded them up with ketchup and mustard. We roasted our hands and faces along the way, as we turned our weenies and waited for them to bubble and acquire just the right shiny brown hue.
Our paper plates were heavy with the dogs and chips and bean salad. Some of us sat low in Adirondack chairs, leaning forward so as not to dribble anything down our fronts.
Kids sat around on low stone walls, dropping barbecue chips on the ground. If only a dog had been there, ready to clean up after us.
Our 15-year-old son stood behind the circle of chairs. As he sipped his drink, his uneven paper plate balanced precariously on on his forearm, one edge of the plate supported against his abdomen.
I heard a soft thud and a splat, and looked over to see his plate upside down on the ground, bean salad scattered around. A red blotch of ketchup scrawled down the front of his white shirt (borrowed from older brother!). It looked at though he had been shot and bled through his stomach.
He grimaced as laughter around him erupted.
Comments
Post a Comment
I love knowing you've been here! Let's have a conversation.