My in-laws are in until Thursday of this week. They got into town around 6 p.m. on Friday after driving from Norman, OK. Their journey started from Des Moines on Thursday. Elise was working, so I took them to Hoover’s for some comfort food. Steve and Joanne both had the barbequed chicken, I opted for the chicken fried steak. Everything was awesome – even the waitress who insisted that Joanne not order the grilled salmon Caesar salad but a rib-sticking order of chicken and mashed potatoes instead.
Elise got home from work at 1:30 a.m. Steve and Joanne tried to stay up to wait on her but couldn’t quite make it. Elise and I went to bed. We woke up on Saturday and drove to my parents’ house. After a short visit we drove to New Ulm to have hamburgers at the Texas Star Cafe. My Mom, Steve, Joanne and Elise dropped my Dad and me off at the house so they could drive to see the big town of Bellville.
Dad and I smoked pork ribs. Dad showed me the beginnings of his new work bench that he’s building with his new router. The rest of the family came back from Bellville. Steve and Joanne learned some interesting history about your humble narrator, so I’m told. Mom and I finished cooking and we all sat down and had dinner. To rub salt in the wound, someone brought out the photo albums. I avoided the situation for the most part. When I heard laughter, I walked further.
To create a diversion, I decided to blow something up. I went outside and started shooting off left-over fireworks from the fourth of July. That grabbed everyone’s attention and soon I had an audience.
We woke up early on Sunday. Steve, Joanne and Elise went to church in Bellville. Dad, Mom and I stayed at home, sacrificed a goat, painted stick figures on our foreheads with pig’s blood and sang Barbara Mandrell tunes. Well, really we just ate bagels.
The rest of the afternoon consisted of reading the newspaper, talking, watching football and eating. We headed back to Austin at 8 p.m. I stayed up long enough to put away my clothes and other miscellaneous effects and hit the hay.
Weekends are just too short.