Oreggano and I decided to grab 4-0h-9 and head to their local farmers’ market. We arrived in time for the band and found a nice spot on the lawn to set up our chairs and enjoy the evening.
Within minutes of the band playing, an old, skinny man in jeans, a t-shirt and a cowboy hat, started dancing around the park. “Oh look, your dad is here,” Oreggano told me. “I’m pretty sure that’s your dad, Bow Tie Killer, and I can see why your mom got pregnant – he ain’t got no rhythm. In fact, it kind of looks like he is having a seizure,” I replied. A few minutes later, a woman from the People of Walmart website walked by. “Is that your sister?” Oreggano asked. “I had no idea we were having a family reunion here. We usually hold them at the prison,” I replied.
As we continued to make snarky comments and sip from our ‘coffee cups,’ a little girl, maybe two years old, approached us. She was mesmerized by 4-oh-9, so we let her hold her for a minute. As she did so, Oreggano spoke with the girl’s grandfather and I spoke with her grandmother. “OK, let’s give her back to her grandma now,” the grandmother told the little girl. “Oh, I’m not her grandma,” I said. Apparently we weren’t the only ones making snarky remarks. Regardless of whether or not the grandmother really thought I was 4-oh-9’s grandma, my ‘daughter,’ Oreggano, found it to be quite amusing. To change the subject, I reverted back to comments about her dad, “Is that a pack of cigarettes in your dad’s sleeve?” “Yep,” she replied and added, “I think it’s time we leave this family reunion.” And so we – me, my daughter and granddaughter – grabbed our chairs, empty coffee cups and bid farewell to our loved ones. Until next beer, I mean year.