So I went to Mother Crammer's as usual for Easter dinner (the same ham, scalloped potatoes, and pudding that everyone gets), but what was unusual is that Mother invited Barry and Penny Heckle (Peter's parents), too. She didn't really invite them so much as their grandchildren, Finn (age 5) and Kelly (age 3) (and neither are Peter's). Mother always moans about growing old without any "grandbabies", so apparently, she's now renting them, and all it costs her is a holiday meal.
I was more interested to hear what Peter was up to, and Penny told me that he's looking into investing in a Menard's franchise in Moline. How exciting! Just between you and me, dear reader, if things work out, I could be part of the Heckle home-improvement empire! You have to say these things out loud if you hope for them to come true.
But this bright note soon turned sour (Miss Wainwright, my sophomore English teacher, would slap me for that mixed metaphor) as Uncle Paul, Mother's brother, stopped by for a visit. Here's some background: It's springtime, and Mother's been having issues with rabbits eating her peonies or something (I can't identify any plants but dandelions--I don't have Mother's green thumb, perhaps because I sliced part of mine off with a circular blade when I had my brief affair with quilting. God knows I'm a knitter!). So Mother called Uncle Paul to "take care of" the rabbits. He did with a bow and arrow. Well on Sunday (Easter Sunday!), he shows up with several skewers that had dried meat on them. The Heckle grandkids crowd around Uncle Paul, and he gives each of them a skewer. They watch as he takes a bite, then they do the same. As they all were chewing, Uncle Paul says, "That's some good bunny rabbit you're eating, ain't it, kids?"
Of course the waterworks followed. Little Kelly bawled for a full five minutes, while Finn tore in half the portrait Penny brought of him sitting on the Easter Bunny's lap at the Hempstead Shopping Emporium. Uncle Paul didn't see the problem, seeing how kids eat chocolate bunnies all the time. But the damage was done. The Heckles left as quickly as they could with barely a good-bye. Poor Uncle Paul. At least Mother's carnations or whatever are safe because of him.
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