angel eggs

Well, I wasn’t quite as lucky at getting out of going to church as I was last Sunday. My Dad stopped by while I was at my sister’s house and invited us both to go and well…ya can’t say no to your Dad. Your wife, if you have a good one like I do, will let you wiggle out of a promise every once in a while but ya gotta pretty much do what ya Dad wants ya to do, even at 50 years old.
So we get there and I have Nathan in tow since wifey had gone to the beach. I don’t know who dreaded it more, me or him. Not only did I dread getting yelled at by a preacher but I dreaded what kind of ignunce I would have to put up with from my 11 year old. He did the usual talking too much at first, mostly about the old guy behind us who’d had surgery for jaw cancer and had half of his face cut out. I think he was kinda freaked out by him.
But he settled in and pretty much behaved himself until he had to excuse himself “to go poot”. Then he got the giggles.
After the preacher was done yellin’ we all gathered in the mess hall and lined up for some good ‘ol cold country cookin’! Yeehaw! There was lots of cold collard greens, cold butter beans, cold string beans along with the stuff that was supposed to be cold, you know like tater salad and deviled eggs or as my sister pointed out, they are called “angel eggs” in church. Sheesh! Gimme a break!
I’d rather watch a whole hockey scrum than go to church. Wait…let me think about that one for a while….nah…I’ll take church, at least that’s only an hour wasted.