"Baby, you've got to get this dog hair up," Helen said. "Your daddy is going to get on to you."
Keep in mind that I am 36 years old. I just smiled, laughed, and got out the broom.
Hours later some wonderful smells were coming from my kitchen. Helen cooked me a chicken, broccoli, and cheddar casserole and yeast biscuits. We also had a fruit salad. Helen ate with me at lunch which is unusual for her.
"Economizing," she told me with a smile.
Soon, mom entered the picture. She was on a mission.
"Go with me to the city to see about getting our mailbox paid for," she asked me over her cell phone.
Apparently, the city trash truck hit mom and dad's mailbox toppling it over. The city agreed to pay for a new one and that was that.
What did mom tell me on the ride home?
"You need to shave," she told me. "You look like a homeless man."
That elicited uproarious laughter on my part.
"Just revisiting some of my lineage," I told mom smiling.