“The alarm’s gonna go off”
This hilarious line was delivered at the dinner table the other night after heated discussion regarding the college sophomore’s annoying proclivity for strolling in, hitting the snacks, and “mowing (our word)”. This is pronounced mow-as-in-cow, not mow-as-in-mow-the-yard. It means inhaling a ridiculous amount of food in a very short period of time.
Which is exactly what had happened that afternoon. His brothers saw him do it (again) with their very own eyes and sounded the alarm so that I, from my office upstairs, would hammer him appropriately and bring his illicit “mowing” to a screeching halt. He, of course, was ticked because the second time, at least, he’d “only taken a few crumbs in the bottom.” Hence, the line delivered by a quick-witted younger brother.
I’m sorry. I admit I giggled out loud during the prayer ’cause it struck me so funny. He, still ticked, refused to hold the comedian’s hand during the meal prayer as is our normal habit. The kicker was when Baby Gabey, who now loves to pray out loud around the table, eyeballed him before starting his petitions and said, “Jordan, hold Day-i-son’s hand.”
Who can resist that, I ask you? Not even a mad big, big brother. But I’m pretty sure there was some serious squeezing going on across the table from me.
Is resigning an option?