¿Es hambre de México?

Viva La Mexico

Like clockwork on a Tuesday evening,  my mother just called me and told me she was bringing me my usual Mexican meal this evening.

"Thank you!" I replied sincerely and heartfelt as I always do.

The Magster and I were just laying in the bed "chilling" as I call it. Maggie was grooming herself diligently as I lay on my side and read this month's edition of Model Railroader magazine. I've gotten bitten by the model railroading bug really badly once again and I am catching up on all my past issues of my magazines I haven't read. Why did I have to pick two of the most expensive hobbies to get involved with such as model railroading and computers?

"Is Mrs. Sandra coming to pick you up?" I asked my mother warily.

"Your daddy just called and asked me the same thing," my mother said huffily. "I think I can drive fine to the Mexican restaurant. It only just a few miles from the house. Your daddy told me that if I had another accident driving then I am not going to be able to drive anymore."

"Remember, it is going to be very dark tonight when you eat as the time has changed," I told my mother.

"Hell, mom, I can barely drive at night and you are double my age," I then said to my mother worriedly.

She blew loudly out of frustration just like a petulant child and told me that maybe I was right.

If mom's memory would serve her correctly, then she would remember falling into the bushes at the restaurant when she drove there a few months ago. Her ending drive to the restaurant to be exact.