I brought my friend Chicago home for break and my family loved him. Especially mother. Over dinner Chicago was like, "Your family has beautiful knee caps Mrs. Clark . . . especially your eldest son. He looks strong. In Greek culture, strength is a timeless trait attributed to the mother's bountiful and nutritious suckling."
She tried to thank him but he wasn't done.
"This food tastes like my family used to make. It has the richness of a luscious Polish sausage with the undertones of a finely ripened apricot. You serve me like I'm your king. I appreciate that Mrs. Clark. Your hands are strong and your cooking is good. You must make your husband proud."
"Well thank yo . . ." she blurted out before Chicago continued.
"Houston is a beautiful city. It reminds me a lot of the old country but far more luxurious. Where I'm from we walked, but that's just because my grandfather made the most comfortable shoes. You try these shoes and you'll never want to wear other shoes again. Not that you need shoes. I'm sure you have beautiful toes."
"I appreciate that Chicago."
After a brief moment of silence, in an outburst with extra frisson, "I love your son. He's a good comrade. I would take him in to battle and fight the good fight. I want a woman whose probity is matched only by her willingness to make children. You have been a most gracious host and your food has given me both life and energy to continue my quest."
My mother said something in response, but her words fell on deaf ears. Chicago said he loved me and that's all that mattered.
Truth be told, he's my best friend and I love him too.
1 comment:
I hate to admit it, but I had to look deipnosophist up in the dictionary. If Jacob really said those things, I really must thank him for waking me up a little as I trudge through this darn brief thing.
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