Primo and I take Maria and Michael bowling. Because they are
both taking as many hours as they can at work, this is the only time we will be
able to see them except for Christmas dinner.
I decline to participate in the actual bowling as I am not
keen on wearing shoes that other people have worn, even though I have a high
enough gross out tolerance that I can pee in almost any toilet in almost any
third world country[1] and even
though I buy shoes at consignment.[2] Maybe
I just don’t like shoes that have had more than one user.
Me: How does college food compare with eating at home?
Maria: It’s not so good.
Me: That’s how it usually is. That’s how it was when Primo and I were in college.
Maria: Plus my mom is a really good cook.
Me: Oh? What does she make?
Michael : You know. Pot roast. Salad. Meatballs and gravy.
Me: Do you guys eat like that every night?
Me: Do you guys eat like that every night?
Maria: When we’re home, yeah.
They seem confused at my questions. Of course their mother
makes them supper every night. She's their mother. She makes supper. They eat
supper. Isn’t that how it works in most families?
[1] As long
as I don’t actually have to touch the toilet – I have thighs of steel, my
friend.
[2]
Ferragamos
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