By the time my brother and I were teenagers our parents decided to adopt a girl, that way our mother wouldn’t be so outnumbered. After countless donations to Catholic Social Services, frequent visits and interviews by social workers, and the casual acquaintance of William X. Kienzle, author of "The Rosary Murders," the Archdiocese of Detroit concluded that it would be in my parent’s best interest to adopt a boy. Most teenagers are susceptible to raging hormones, so I had a feeling this would happen; each social worker had asked my brother and I how we felt about having a young female in the house and about splitting an inheritance three ways. Not wanting to be saboteurs, and also being fairly shy, we shrugged our shoulders in unison, feigning disinterest in the whole interrogation process. We knew the adoption idea went bust when our dad gave them an ultimatum: girl or no deal. He also decided they wouldn’t get one more nickel out of him.I don’t know exactly how it happened, but our parents got involved in a foreign exchange-student program, and by the time my brother and I were commuting to college, we had females from Spain, Sweden, and Portugal living at our house. Over time, our dwelling became a foreign embassy; we had girls from Columbia, Argentina, Brazil, and Mexico for sleepovers with the foreign exchange-students living with us.
Our first live-in came from Spain. For some reason, my dad thought if he talked loud enough and slow enough she’d understand his english. The poor girl was appalled to see us eating corn on the cob at the dinner table, and after learning a few select words and sentences, she explained, "In Spain we feed it to the pigs." We encouraged her to try it anyway, and reluctantly, after applying butter and salt, she decided it wasn’t so bad afterall.
Today’s pic is of a wild boar my dad shot long ago on a hunting trip in Tennessee. The older the pig, the tougher and nastier the meat. Notice the yellowed newspaper in its mouth—CORN. Guess some writing prompts start by word association.
10 comments:
Great Story. Picture is awesome.
Would not want to meet that in the woods. MW
Very interesting, Jim. How sad for your mom; does she have any granddaughters now? --R
Jim,
Love the dialogue from the Spanish student! It would make a great title -- We feed it to the pigs -- for a short short. Love it!
Oh my goodness that is a huge animal! I'm not much for mounting animals on walls but my dad does have a big mouth billy bass, a singing shark, and a talking deer head... my mother makes him keep them on the walls in the garage. ;o)
Hey Jim,
Man, lucky! Your Dad is a great character, too. Loved today's post and shot.
Hasta La Vista :->
E'
Robin,
My mother has been blessed with four granddaughters and no grandsons. Funny how things work out. --Jim
My parents were the opposite, all girls. Now I teach in an all-male prison, I wonder if that says something.
You must've watched Sunday's Dateline on adoption scams.
A house full of foreign women.......... No Comment.
I like how your Dad decide not to give another nickel to the Money Sharks.
Great story about the corn. Cultural differences are funny to both sides. It's hard to imagine not eating corn just because it's fed to pigs, Pigs eat anything.
Greets to the webmaster of this wonderful site. Keep working. Thank you.
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