how it was properly done. I swallowed first, then said,
"I pity the wife you'll have. She'll divorce you within
a year."
He went on eating, deaf and dumb to everything
but enjoyment.
"Cathy," said Carrie, "don't be mean to Chris,
'cause we don't like cold food, anyway, so we don't
want to eat."
"My wife will adore me so much, she'll be
charmed to pick up my dirty socks. And Carrie, you
and Cory like cold cereal with raisins, so eat!" "We don't like cold turkey . . . and that brown
stuff on the potatoes looks funny."
"That brown stuff is called gravy, and it tastes
delicious. And Eskimos love cold food."
"Cathy, do Eskimos like cold food?"
"I don't know, Carrie. I suppose they'd better like
it, or starve to death." For the life of me, I couldn't
understand what Eskimos had to do with
Thanksgiving. "Chris, couldn't you have said
something better? Why bring up Eskimos?" "Eskimos are Indians. Indians are part of the
Thanksgiving Day tradition."
"Oh."
"You know, of course, the North American
continent used to be connected with Asia," he said
between mouthfuls. "Indians trekked over from Asia,
and some liked ice and snow so much, they just stayed
on, while others had better sense, and moved on
down."
"Cathy, what's this lumpy and bumpy stuff that
looks like Jell-O?"