Wednesday, January 8, 2014

My Dad's Lunch Hour

When I was little my father used to come home for lunch from the autobody shop covered in splattered paint on his white overhalls... He would open the fridg', pull out the olives, cheese, mortadella, prosciutto, genoa salmi, fresh tomatos sliced- and of course on the kitchen counter was the fresh loaf of italian bread. He'd lay it all out on our marble-top coffee table in the front room with the newspaper wide open next to everything... He'd stuff it all together in large chucks of bread ripped from the loaf and take giant bite-fulls... I was amazied and fascinated by the way he ate all that- then he'd gulp down about a gallon of water, jump back out to his car, and back to the body shop... wow! I can't even believe I just remembered all that! :-) God rest and bless his soul! :-) Love you Dad!!! :-)

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