One fine day Mother took me shopping with her, just the two of us. We picked out groceries, as I helped her find items on the shopping list, and on the way home we discussed what we were going to make for dinner. Walking in the door, we heard my Father in the kitchen. He had decided to be nice to my mother and make dinner for us, and the stove was busily bubbling with his efforts. I’m not sure if any of you are familiar with this type of food, but in the days before TV dinners or microwaves, there were “boil-a-bag” foods. Mostly things like mashed potatoes and some kind of meat, often with gravy, that were sealed in bags and then boiled to cook them.
     As my father turned and grinned at us, I thought my mother was going to have a stroke...

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