Tuesday, 26 March 2013
Loss of Appetite
By Mickey Rogers of This, That and the Other
It is certainly an understatement to say that my father had some strange relatives. Unfortunately, he would drag Mom and us kids to what seemed like the far corners of the earth to visit those folks. I tried making excuses such as pleading that I needed to stay home to study for a big test but more often than not I was forced to tag along.
Once we visited some distant relatives who lived in a luscious valley that was surrounded by ancient mountains each of which, except at the summit, was dotted with tall, majestic pine trees. The area was breath-taking but was sparsely populated; there were more wild animals in that valley than there were human beings.
Somehow the old shack in which the relatives lived had defied gravity for decades. It simply refused to collapse. If the house had ever been acquainted with a paintbrush there was no longer any evidence of it.
By the time we arrived it was close to noon. The couple living there had several children with the youngest being an infant. The mother informed us that she was about to make pancakes for her large family and that we were welcome to join them. That was magic to the ears of a hungry young man.
She had soon prepared a plate full of thick, scrumptious hotcakes, a heaping bowl of heavenly smelling sausages and a still-warm loaf of homemade bread. I was almost salivating.
Just as we were ready to take our seats at the table, the infant began to cry. The mom soon discovered the cause of the baby’s distress; he had left her a present in his diaper.
Without missing a beat, she removed the diaper, grabbed one of those beautiful pancakes and proceeded to wipe the infant’s bottom.
She then expertly tossed the soiled flapjack through a hole in the floorboard. The two family dogs fought each other in order to win the honor of retrieving the prize from the hole in the floor.
A few minutes later we were all sitting at the table. The pancakes (except for one in particular) were no doubt still scrumptious, the sausages still smelled delightful and the homemade bread was almost begging to be devoured.
However, I didn’t eat one morsel of food. For some reason, this young man, who at that time had a reputation as an eating machine, had lost his appetite. That was the first and so far the only time that I’ve ever refused free food. But even I have my limits.
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