Dad arrived and we took my plethora of medications. He was running a little late tonight waylaid by his cellphone. Mags had been watching out for him for hours as dusk encroached. I had the television on today so he stayed longer (Enthralled by The Weather Channel).
"Turn the volume up some," my hard of hearing father told me.
"Would you trust me to go debit some bologna and mayonnaise out of my account?" I asked my father as he was leaving.
Storms were brewing on the horizon with vivid strikes of lightning and bone rattling and rumbling thunder.
"Come on," my father said as he hurriedly stood up. "Let's beat this storm, put some gas in our cars, and head over to the Piggly Wiggly and get what you need."
I had bought two loaves of bread grocery night at Kroger and forgot any luncheon meat and mayonnaise.
Dad came running out of the Pig with two packages of bologna, one loaf of bread, and a bottle of Blue Plate mayonnaise.
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