Monday, January 18, 2010

Mailbox Follow-Up

Don't hit me!You might remember that my grandfather ran over a neighbor's mailbox at Christmas. But wait! There's more.

My dad got a replacement mailbox for the neighbor pretty quickly, but it's been snowy and freezing and such for a long dang time. Last week, things cleared off just enough that Dad decided to wander across the street and see what he was up against.

Dad lugged a new mailbox across the street right as Grandpa showed up with ham.

I have to pause here for a second and wonder... do other families get to use sentences like that? Or is it just us?

Anyway, my grandparents are notorious for buying food in bulk. Especially meat. Then Grandpa will pile it all into a giant freezer in the garage. There's no telling what's in that thing. The top layer is usually vaguely safe, but the stuff in the middle strata could have been purchased as far back as the 80's. The lower third of the freezer is so frost-covered that it's impossible to break into without a pickax. There's no telling what kind of stuff is down there... steak, ham, bacon, mammoth, saber-tooth... anything is possible.

The frozen ark of the supermarketAnyway, Grandpa had been digging in that thing and found 5 hams. He was going to donate them to a local food bank, but on the way he decided that Mom and Dad needed one. So, he went in and gave my mom a ham.

Grandpa came out at the same time Dad returned. "What are you doin' over there?"

"Well Pop," Dad said. "When you left here after Christmas, you backed over Neighbor's mailbox there. I'm replacing it for him."

Grandpa considered this for a minute. "Huh," he said, clearly unimpressed. "I wondered if I did that."

Who *wouldn't* want a 15-year old freezer-burned ham?And then he simply left. He seemed pretty secure in the knowledge that it wasn't his problem.

Besides, he had more ham to deliver.


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