Ham

When I was 20 years old, my family had a big Easter meal at my grandmother’s house in Montgomery. Dressed up in our new Easter outfits, we all sat down to a traditional ham dinner. With Lady Buttercup at my side watching carefully, Natasha and I (not being vegetarians at that point) proceeded to enjoy a home cooked meal the way college students and weary travelers are famous for.

Quite unexpectedly, something suddenly hits my forehead. I didn’t even see it happen; I just feel the smack and do a double take. My Uncle Rico, who is sitting directly across the table from me, is laughing. He has a look on his face that I now recognize as the same as the current president* gets when he has pleased himself with his own joke. Uncle Rico had decided to share some ham so he just went ahead and threw it clear across the table. During a nice Easter dinner. At first I thought he was throwing ham just to be throwing ham. It wasn’t until later, after a discussion with Mumsly, that I even found out the ham was intended for Lady Buttercup.




*I’ve adopted the Sarah Vowell method of coping.