Break Out The Biohazard Suit
Today Mr. C dropped a piece of his half-eaten sandwich into the bowl of communal cashews at his grandparents' house. You should have seen the shudders from the adults present. Last week, at the ex-in-laws', he touched a deviled egg from the serving dish, but didn't take it . You could hear the cries of anguish from the next room, and I had to quickly and loudly assure all adults present that -- not to worry -- I would eat the offensive egg in question. I want to call these people pussies, except I have a feeling that might get me barred from any future family activities, and then where would I eat on Thanksgiving?