At my July 4th cookout, my son’s wife scraped my dinner into the dog’s bowl and said: “The hired help eats last – go wait by the dock!” I buttoned my coat and said: “Now they’ll learn who owns this land.” Later, she turned pale in front of everyone!
The moment my daughter-in-law scraped my untouched dinner into the dog’s bowl, the entire dockside party went silent. Then she smiled at me and said, “The hired help eats last—go wait by the dock.” For one sharp second, I heard nothing but fireworks cracking over Lake Briar and the soft clink of my mother’s silver…