Don't get me wrong. I adore my in-laws. My mother-in-law, Lydia, is a lovely lady, sweet, kind and gentle. My father-in-law, Joe, however, is a pistol. Guess that's where hubs gets his spunkiness from. Over the years, I have sat down to many a good meal with Joe. Hubs and I would always look in wonder at how much seafood Joe could consume in one sitting. But nothing compares to our amazement at how Joe's shirt and belly always functioned as an adult bib. No matter the amount or kinds of foods that Joe delighted in, roughly 20% of it would land on his shirt and on the floor around his chair. Crumbs would cling for dear life on his clean shirt until just the most subtle of movement would condemn them to the floor surrounding his chair like police tape surrounds a body. Drops of sauces would invariably find their way to a comfortable spot just above Joe's belly. Hubs and I would openly snicker about Joe's dining finesse all the time. Well, tonight, I snicker no more because I have joined my father-in-law in the messy-eater club. While enjoying some Mississippi Sweets with hubs, I unknowingly splattered my t-shirt with enough bbq sauce to fill a measuring spoon. I only discovered this after walking up and down the grocery aisle with hubs under harsh fluorescent light. So, Joe, hubs and I dedicate this entry to you!
