Night of the Cephalopods

We missed our Tuesday sushi night. But the Schneiders were hungry and still wanted to eat. So we switched over to Wednesday, and at Monica’s suggestion, changed the menu to Greek.

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I was pleased, as I’d been craving Greek food and had even purchased stuff to make a Greek dinner. Earlier that week Don had even accidentally smashed a plate at our house — all signs were pointing toward Greece. More

The Marrow

There was a knock at the door.

Standing there was Jerry, disheveled assistant to my sister Laura’s boyfriend, Ron, holding the largest zucchini I’ve ever seen.

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“This is from Ron,” he said, handing it to me. It weighed more than a ham.

I thanked him and closed the door.

My 7-year-old daughter regarded the squash suspiciously.

“What is that?” she asked. More