5.25.2005
Dinner was one of those wholeheartedly unpretentious affairs, almost unnerving in its briskness and efficiency.
Whilst Dad steamed the corn and baked the steak, I measured out dollops of balsamic and red wine vinegars, olive oil, and honey for the store-bought salad at hand.
Dad had hollered for my help at 6:05 after citing a dinner start time of 6:30.
We were done by 6:35.
With our bellies full of carnage du cow (medium rare for myself, a touch browner for Dad), we arose from our chairs, hastily collected dishes, plates, and cutlery, did the washing, dumped the trash, tucked in our chairs, and called it a night.
Whilst Dad steamed the corn and baked the steak, I measured out dollops of balsamic and red wine vinegars, olive oil, and honey for the store-bought salad at hand.
Dad had hollered for my help at 6:05 after citing a dinner start time of 6:30.
We were done by 6:35.
With our bellies full of carnage du cow (medium rare for myself, a touch browner for Dad), we arose from our chairs, hastily collected dishes, plates, and cutlery, did the washing, dumped the trash, tucked in our chairs, and called it a night.
