Wednesday, July 20, 2011

THE APPLE FRITTER STRIKES AGAIN ... !




My father did the "unthinkable" yesterday at a Starbucks in Brookline, Massachusetts: He ordered an Apple Fritter. "I did it for you," he said. "It's your funeral," I thought. But actually it was my grandmother's. We had arrived early for her funeral service and were killing time across the street. My father, a journalist by trade, gave me a blow-by-blow account. "It's not bad," he said, giving me a thumbs-up. "Well, it can't be healthy," I replied. "Just because it has some Apple in it doesn't mean it will keep the doctor away." "Actually, I feel as if I've just frittered away six-months of my life expectancy," he replied. Hours went by and he looked sort of queasy. "I'm not sure anymore if that was a fritter or a critter," he said. "Keep me posted," I replied. By dinner time he had a severe case of indigestion. "I have a new name for that pastry," he said dryly, "It's an Apple Shitter!" ...!

4 comments:

Traci said...

Your dad is adorable. I'm sorry to hear about your grandmother.

garnett109 said...

Sorry for your loss

Bucko (a.k.a., Ken) said...

Sorry for your loss, but glad you and your dad still have a sense of humor.

Paula said...

My sympathy on the loss of your grandmother. Nice to see a picture of your Dad.