Our standard Friday night conversation begins like this: Me-Where do you want me to buy you dinner tonight? El Hubbo knows that by Friday, especially a Friday of a week he has been gone and left me without reinforcement in the continuing battle for domination with his offspring, I am in no mood to plan and prepare a dinner. Friday is a day to harken back to the time honored tradition of hunting or gathering our food at the nearest restaurant, take out, or delivery business available. El Hubbo's normal reply- I don't know. What are you in the mood for? Me-Hmmmm. Not Italian. Not Mexican. Not Chinese. At this point in tonight's Friday conversation, Jake pipes up. Jake- How about Texan? Me-Huh? What are you talking about? Jake-Texan! You know, hamburgers, hot dogs, cheese fries, chicken fried steak. It's good to know that we are raising a true Texan with grease and gravy flowing through his veins!
The always random, occasionally complex, often confounded commentary and narrative of one West Texas woman's life.