One Dead Chicken.

Slowly, and with great reluctance, I seem to be turning into a grown-up. Well, maybe that's pushing it. I'll say, at least, that I finally feed more people than feed me. When I was growing up in Tampa, I frequently had four meals a day: two or three at home, and one or two at the home of my second family, the Baggetts (I've mentioned them a few times, most recently in my Thanksgiving Florida Roadtrip). Mom worked until at least five every day, and we didn't usually eat until seven-thirty or eight. I've always loved food, and I was way hungry before then. Frandy Baggett taught elementary school- which I know is plenty of work- but she was home by mid-afternoon, so she usually had food on the table by five-thirty or so. Well, whenever they ate, I knew. They were unfailingly good Southern hosts, so they always offered me a plate. I wasn't as polite as they were, so I almost always accepted. Let me tell you, Frandy could cook! It wasn't fancy stuff, usually; it was just good Southern food: fried chicken, snap-beans, fried fish. Yum! There were three Baggett children to go with Frandy and (former FSU offensive guard) Leo Baggett so Mrs. Baggett already had to prepare a lot of food. I'm pretty sure there must have been times when a "No, thank you, Mrs. Baggett" would've been appreciated, but I don't remember ever being told there wasn't enough.

Though I've been divorced eight years now, my mother-in-law, Margie, always treated me well. I really could not have asked for better in-laws. For several years, we lived down the street from Tina's folks. "Marnie" as her in-laws and grandchildren called her, was also an excellent cook, and we availed ourselves of her hospitality on a right regular basis. She generally took our mooching in stride, too, but she'd raised all her kids already, and undoubtedly had earned a break. One day I wandered in to her kitchen and inquired, "Watcha havin' for dinner, Marnie?". She must have been struggling a bit that day, because she gave a classic response: "One dead chicken". Uh, maybe Tina'n I'll eat out tonight.

Fast forward a few years. The Lads have a lot of friends in the Boro that just pop in. Matt, Greg, Zach, Trenton, the Nicks, and a few others seem to know when I'm cooking. Last weekend the Lads had friend, Trenton, over. I roasted a chicken, cooked some rice, green beans, Grands biscuits. Zach, Matt and Greg show up. We're up to seven people to eat one dead chicken. "Watcha cookin' Mr. David?" Somehow, there was enough. Loaves and fishes, I guess. A little minor miracle to meet a requirement of basic Southern hospitality. Thanks, Frandy and Marnie, for teaching me this.