Evelyn had our picture taken in our Easter bonnets. I am the one with chocolate ice cream on my shirt. It runs in the family. When Leslie Jones implied that her mom, Sandy Sampson Jones, wasn’t “cool” like some architect she had met, I chewed her out. Sandy wore granny glasses before the “cool” architect did. She was long past the peace medallion around the neck. Leslie replied that every time she and Sandy ate out, Sandy spilled food on her shirt, and that just wasn’t cool. Enter family. Tina revealed that she spilled food on her front so frequently that her cubby mate at IBM was incredulous, and my daughter-in-law Alison tattled that my son Eric was a terror to neckties, because he so frequently dribbling on them. Well, here is the matriarch of dribble.
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