Tuesday, January 14, 2014

A New Sheriff in Town

(via)
Not a lovely looking meal at all...
On Sundays... we eat dinner with my parents at their assisted living place.. 99.7% of the time.

My mother is sure she's doing me a huge favor since I don't have to make dinner on Sundays. And, it is kind of her to want to buy us dinner on Sundays... but the food on Sundays has left something to be desired... since... forever.

Even during the week when they had an "Executive Chef" in the kitchen, the food wasn't always great.

If a meal was delicious... hearing the chef slam pots, pans, dishes, and silverware around the kitchen because she was mad about something made your food taste less than delicious.

That reminds me of a Bible verse I've heard throughout the years... different Bible translations word it differently...  I love the way The Message Bible says it:

Better a bread crust shared in love than a slab of prime rib served in hate.

You know that's right. (Psych reference. You caught that, right?) But, I digress...

Now the weekday cook and the weekend cook have both quit... So back to the Sunday dinner story...

The Stern German will more oft than not do his fair share to encourage conversation at the Sunday table. Bless his heart. This earns him lots of bonus points... and to be clear... he can use all the bonus points he can get.

Last Sunday the Stern German was talking about the meals that have been served there lately... and he says, "I hear there's a new sheriff in town... and it sounds like the food has been a lot better ever since."

The diabetic, geriatric, bariatric, blind guy doesn't respond.

My mother... who forgot to wear her hearing aid to lunch doesn't respond either. Pretty sure she didn't hear much of what the Stern German said.

So, the Stern German tried again, "I hear there's a new sheriff in town and Sally says the food has been really, really good since you've gotten the new cooks."

There is a moment of silence and then my mom hollers out says loudly, "The new cook's husband is the sheriff???"

What??? Noooooooo. Not even close, Mom.

"No," the Stern German responds patiently, "I hear the food's been better here lately."

"Well, who is the new sheriff?" my mom says.

Then my mom tries again, "The new cook was the sheriff?"


And, FYI, the retired sheriff actually lives with my parents where my parents live... he's in his upper 90s and his hearing is worse than my mother's... so I guess I should be grateful she can hear as well as she does...

By now lots of people in the dining room were looking from the retired sheriff to the kitchen to our table and back again in bewilderment. The Angsty Teen looking like she was going to die from laughter... and the Stern German was looking like he needed a drink.

Since I was sitting closer to my mom than the Stern German was, I thought I'd give it a try.

"No, he's just talking about the new cook and how the food is better than before," I said slowly with deliberate articulation.

My mom looked at me, thought for a second or two, and then asked in all sincerity, "When is the sheriff going to cook here? I don't think he could do better than the new cooks. The food has been so much better lately."

This, my friends, is why I drink.

3 comments:

  1. lol that is hilarious, and I LOVE psych. So glad its back

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  2. I've heard it both ways.
    The stories from your mom crack me up!

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