Hogswatch 1-10

Even though Dr. Allen had never treated me like family, I still felt the need to defend my mother. Why? I don’t know. Somehow, if I thought of her in a better light, it wouldn’t hurt so badly.

“Hey Mom’s done the best she could do to take care of us since Dad died!”

“Don’t get hot with me, son, but that’s a pack of lies and you know it. Hey, if we are going to have this conversation, let's go somewhere to eat and talk. I’m hungry and I can tell you are too, and I know we have a lot to catch up on.”

You can’t argue with hunger, as I noticed my belly was rumbling suddenly. So I followed my uncle outside and soon I was sitting beside him in his old Pontiac with the windows pulled down and the warm Florida air blowing in my hair. Somehow the old fart knew the way to the closest all-night diner without even asking me for directions. This was going to be an interesting midnight snack.

After we had ordered and the plump waitress brought our steak & eggs, there were several minutes of silence as we both dug into our midnight breakfasts. My Uncle Al, if I can call him that, had bought a side of sausage gravy, which he was ladling over his home fries.

“Want some,” Al asked as he thrust the half-full bowl into my hands.

I always avoid sausage gravy because it tends to give me a sour stomach, but I shrugged and took the bowl and poured the rest of its contents over my plate.

Neither of us said much as we concentrated on eating our snack. The waitress seemed a little amazed at the speed at which we consumed our breakfasts. I guess we both were hungry.

“Hmm- would you like anything else,” said the waitress as she cleaned up all the empties and deposited our check.

Al had a large smile on his face and rolled his eyes up as he pondered that question.

“Do you have any strawberry pie,” Al said wistfully.

“Nope, all out. We have chocolate, and banana cream.”

“No thanks for the pie then. We will have four pecan waffles, and keep the coffee coming.”

Al delivered this with a straight face, but his eyes were twinkling. As the waitress was walking back to the kitchen to deliver this new order Al shouted to her.

“ Eat four waffles yourself; you're looking kind of skinny, Bev.”

Of everything odd that had happened this night that was the oddest moment because instead of cussing Al out and telling him to get the hell out of her restaurant, our waitress, whose nametag said Shannon, shouted back to Al, “Boy, that’s a great idea - I’ve been starving all night. I think I’ll eat eight.”

I was quiet during this whole scene and I watched my uncle with a critical eye.

Al turned back to me in the booth and shrugged.

“I hate to see a woman that is all skin and bones.”

After living with skin and bones my whole life I could really identify with my Uncle’s opinion, but the fact was that our waitress, who looked to be in her late 30s, probably weighed about 210lbs. Not anyone’s definition of skin and bones that I know of. I wondered what Uncle Al thought of my half-sisters.

“Skeletal,” said Al in a serious voice.

I was shocked again; it was like this Uncle I had never heard of was reading my mind.

“What did you say?” I asked Al in disbelief.

“I said I think your sisters look skeletal. I could see that you were wondering what I think of your sisters if I think Bev looks skinny.”