Mail or Lunch
Magnus had turned 19. When would the “little kids” of yesteryear slow down? Apparently no time soon.
“Frances, go out and get the mail,” Carrie commanded.
Frances looked out the window.
“It’s too cold.”
“Get it, or no lunch today.”
“How about you make me an omelet if I get the mail?”
“How about you get the mail, or if you don’t, you don’t get lunch, and you still get the mail.”
“Promise you’ll make me lunch?”
“Promise.”
Frances picked up his basketball and stalled.
“Frances, now!”
Frances slipped over to the door, opened it, hid on the other side of the wall where Carrie couldn’t see him, and shut the door.
“He can find his own lunch,” Carrie muttered.
“Ah!” Frances jumped out. “You promised!”
“Frances!” Carrie yelled at him, laughing, and chased him in circles around the kitchen. “Outside, now!”
Frances ran out the front, laughing.
“Man, those kids are getting too smart for their own good,” said Carrie.
Frances returned to the front door. Troops, as dumb a dog as he was, barked his head off when he saw Frances at the window.
“Frances, make that dog bark once more!” Carrie threatened.
Frances picked up the basketball and deliberately dropped it on the floor. Surprisingly, Trooper did nothing.
“Aw!” Frances exclaimed.
Despite Carrie’s threats, however, she did end up preparing something that she said “they eat in Uruguay”: chili with soft cheese, hot dogs, and a fried egg on the top.
Then the sleet came.
Some time later, they found themselves (OLeif, Collette, and Carrie-Bri) at the Tecumseh’s, gathering with Louis and Mercy to practice the old “Barberini’s Tambourine”. It didn’t take long. In the end, they spent more time on the road then they did at the Tecumseh’s.