Mom always had a fixation on correct etiquette, especially at the dinner table. Drove my Dad and me nuts. “Put your napkin in your lap”, she’d admonish. “Drape it over your left knee.” All Dad and I wanted to do was eat. In fact, between mouthfuls, he’d say, “Wilma, let the boy eat!” It wasn’t… Continue reading Napkins at the Table
Chalk Dust 