Margie: Cousin T, isn't this a lovely place for a picnic? You pour us some special tea while I unpack the picnic basket. I do declare, it feels like Christmas without Edna here to gripe and complain.
I brought fried chicken, potato salad, and your favorites; pickled eggs and fried gizzards. Now you eat up and you can have your surprise for dessert.
Cousin T: You brought all of that and a surprise to boot, I would hug you if our family was the type to engage in that type of affection!
Margie: Well, we aren't but thank you for the thought. Here you go. It's your favorite Peanut Butter and Banana pudding.
By the way, how are we getting out of here?
Cousin T is Dumbstruck. No one, and he means no one has ever made all of his favorite things for the same meal. He has a sudden nearly uncontrollable urge to hug Miss Margie…and maybe even to give her a little kiss on the cheek. Instead he slowly lifts his head and says:
"I'll bet there is some old gas in Uncle Jaybirds barn. I hope it works; This gas would most probably be the 1 dollar 79 cent variety. My truck has gotten used to 4 dollar gas."
Margie: You smart boy. You've always been my favorite. Here's $ 2.21 to put in the gas tank. I think your truck will work fine then. You can fool it into thinking that's $4 gas now.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Margie and Cousin T: Picnic: Part II
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3 comments:
what happened with the storm and evil looking black tornado heading your way? Is everyone all right?
Margie: Thank you so much for checking on us. We are safe and sound. I think the smell of those gizzards ran that tornado right off.
Hello there Dreaming in colors. I think I heard once people dream in black and white. Or is it that dogs see in black and white? How do they know that anyhow? We're awfully sorry we didn't mention that possible twister again. Here in Kansas in July them kind of moments are a dime a dozen. I would be lying if I said I was not scared there for a minute though. But do you know what didn't happen? The hair on the back of my neck did not stand up. That is a surefire way to tell there is a twister around. "Close call makes the crow ball" as my momma used to say. Thanks for being so concerned about us.
-Cousin T
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