growing up, meal time was no joke. nothing wasted and seconds only went to the older ones who expended more energy with work/chores. we said grace and kissed and told our parents "i love you" before bed each night. i myself didn't have a brrod, but i can remember my dad's face some mornings, with his workboots between his feet as he sat in his chair. the thousand-yard stare. i'd ask him, "you okay?" and he'd mutter "the salt mine."
growing up, meal time was no joke. nothing wasted and seconds only went to the older ones who expended more energy with work/chores. we said grace and kissed and told our parents "i love you" before bed each night. i myself didn't have a brrod, but i can remember my dad's face some mornings, with his workboots between his feet as he sat in his chair. the thousand-yard stare. i'd ask him, "you okay?" and he'd mutter "the salt mine."
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