Some gluttony
Mary was given a new used car. Our Uncle Stan brought it as near to us as Indianapolis, and so I went there to pick it up with Martin and his parents.
Close to the Grissom Air Reserve Base, we stopped at a roadside café. Martin’s parents bought us breakfast.
It’d be ungrateful of me not to describe this meal. I’m no food writer – but here goes.
It was the Babette’s Feast of breakfasts. It was an all-you-can-eat buffet. The biscuits. The bacon. The casserole. The sausage. All were made from old Amish recipes. I knew, from the first bites, that this would be one of the greatest breakfasts of my life.
Caveman dieters, Martin’s parents ate just a few fried eggs. But they enjoyed the other food vicariously, keenly watching Martin and me. Their eyes took in every detail. They listened closely as we described what we were eating.
It was the first day of our Christmas break.
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Yesterday, for most of the high school students, I photocopied crossword puzzles about Christmas (also, a few “Winter Wonderland” word-searches, for the heathen). Teacher after teacher came into my office and gave me money, cards, and sweets. Then, after school was over, Martin and I went to the staff members’ Christmas party. I ate hors d’oeuvres and watched the teachers drink a lot of beer.