On Thursday I took a ride with Son-of-a-wrek and DIL.
The trip was to the Airforce base to shop at the exchange for bulk items. And on to Sam’s Club.
Son was on a roll during this drive. I laughed and laughed.
We stop at a gas station for DIL to pee and I took a notion to nap a minute. When I woke up DIL was driving. I feel somewhat safer.
We arrived early and it was determined we would eat luncheon first (I like the word ‘luncheon’ makes me feel all ‘Downton Abbey-ish’)
Crackerbarrel is chosen. If you’ve never been in that place take it from me it’s always crowded.
To get in or out you go through the gift shop. It’s way over merchandised and had narrow walking lanes and a gazillion people shopping.
I may have bought a card once or twice but other than that I don’t think I’ve ever bought anything else.
Now, I like Crackerbarrel. The food is decent. The tea is good.
We are seated and place our order. Chicken fried steak and mashed potatoes all around.
Son downs his tea and decided he must visit the little boys room.
Like I said, he’s on a roll. He’s also kinda nuts.
He took off ‘racewalking’ to the restroom. (He’s fascinated by the sport racewalking)
I heard him say really loudly, twice, “Coming thru, stand aside”
DIL was mortified. I nearly fell outta my chair. I was laughing so hard, tears were running down my cheeks.
I glanced around the room and serveral people where aghast, most were laughing. One lady across from us had her face in her napkin convulsing with laughter.
He got back to the table, took a bow to the room and sat down to eat. That boy just won’t do.
We finished eating. Son has my card to pay(I assume that is why I was invited to go along).
Me and DIL are looking around at the junk for sale while he waits in line to pay out. I’m looking at kitchen implements. I heard my darling Son say rather loudly: “The hell you say!”
I rush over thinking there’s something wrong. The checker says a patron before us paid our ticket in a random act of kindness. It was $68.
A very nice gesture. Wow!
I’m fairly certain it was the lady laughing so hard she was quivering.
Next thing outta Sons mouth was to me and DIL, he says “I’ll buy you 2 anything you want here in the gift shop”
(He still has my card, btw)
I bought my spurtle in Scotland and have actually used it for making porridge (well, oatmeal). I am not surprised that one can be acquired in Cracker Barrel. It’s been decades since I’ve been in one, but the giftshop usually has candy, especially that strange flavor “horehound”.
And I just found out that crackerbarrel.com is blocked for me. Probably doesn’t want anybody from foreign countries looking at their shop.
Horehound is actually a licorice-like, bitter herb imported to the U.S. by some strange, self-flagellant, European martyr who felt they would never survive the new land if they didn’t have horrible-tasting medicines of their own making. Someone turned this into a poor-man’s candy. My dad could eat them by the bucket if he had a chance.
The card of yours authorized from your Daddy’s service expired when you were eighteen.
Or twenty-one, if you were a full-time college student.
My Daddy was retired Air Force, and I had a dependent’s ID card, too. Twenty-one is when Uncle Sam determines you are no longer a dependent.
I married an active duty Army man at 21, and thus obtained a dependent ID card based on his service. After he retired, I had to renew the card every four years. Finally, at the last renewal, the clerk declared we were probably going to stay married. After forty-some years, my expiration date now reads: Indefinite.
