My extended family and I were invited to a 75th anniversary event at a church my father pastored in Sumter 50 years ago. We were excited to attend, and so my sister drove my parents down from Greenville the night before.
My little sister is a glutton for punishment. She is what I call “happy go lucky”. She is plucky, upbeat, fun-loving and a true Polly Anna at heart. She always looks on the bright side of things. She is my mother’s twin or I would have thought she was adopted. My outlook is rarely positive.
Anyway, my sister not only brought my elderly parents down, she also brought her two 8 year-old grandkids…a boy and a girl. They are cousins and since they are the same age, they are close and get in trouble together. So I was surprised that she would add two kids to the two elderly “kids” she had on her hands. But she did.
That night my sister suggested that we go to a local Chinese restaurant for dinner. We walked in and said we needed a table for four old people, one middle-aged person, and two children. The host looked askance at us and truthfully, I was a little worried that he couldn’t speak English. But then a Hispanic boy came up and they began conversing in a mixture of English, Spanish, and Chinese. I guess they had become rather good at it because they understood each other perfectly.
Now, unfortunately, I noticed that this was a buffet at which my husband began whispering to me as we were walking to our table. I was more worried about my aged parents trying to maneuver around the crowds.
“What did you say?” I asked because neither one of us has great hearing.
“I said, do you know what the word “buffet” stands for?” He asked.
Thinking that he was going to impart some Latin or Greek wisdom to me, I said “No”.
“It stands for big, ugly, fat, folk eating together.”
I choked on my glass of water almost laughing out loud when I realized that I was soon to be one of those big, ugly, fat, folk. I was supposed to be on a diet.
Sigh.
I loaded my plate and sat next to my mom. My husband finally showed up with two plates, and dad came in with his plate and mom’s. My sister and her grandkids were still missing so we all sat and waited to say the blessing. About that time, dad stood back up.
“I forgot to get a roll,” he said, walking out of the room.
I sat impatiently tapping my fingers on the table. The fragrant aromas of food wafted up to my nose.
My sister and her two grandkids finally arrived and sat down just as my mother looked down at her own plate and noticed that she was missing something.
“Hey, where are those little thingies I love? I didn’t get any of those thingies,” she said. Evidently, my sister knew what “thingies” she was talking about because she forked up one from her plate and said, “You, mean these?” holding up a rangoon, a delicious mixture of crab and cream cheese stuffed inside fried dough.
“Yes,” said mom. “I love those!” Dad had made mom’s plate for her and had forgotten her beloved rangoons.
At that moment, dad walked in, and mom pointed out the error…no rangoons.
“I didn’t see any,” he said, and that’s when my sister stood up and announced that she would go get some for my mom.
My fingers began pounding on the table. I admit it…I get serious about my food and hate delays.
My husband then stood up. “I think I will go to the bathroom and wash my hands first,” he said, and off he went.
That did it! I very loudly announced to the table that we were now officially eating and would say the blessing when everyone arrived. I then tore into my food.
My sister came back in with the rangoons and immediately asked, “Hey, you had the blessing without me?”
“No,” we all replied and said we were waiting on my husband. She began stuffing her face, too. My husband finally showed up, saw all of us eating, and the first thing he said was, “Hey, you had the blessing without me?”
Rather than explain again, I looked up at dad, and with a noodle hanging down my chin, asked him to say the blessing.
Everyone was finally in the same room at the same time. I truly was grateful.
