My Grandparents: A Sketch
I was leisurely strolling out of a doctor's appointment with Mary. I asked Mary whether Bob found her as she waited for me in the waiting room. As we ambled in the direction of the elevators because of Mary's hip, she told me that Bob went looking for a drinking fountain.
Just as she told me this, we reached the end of the hall and we found Bob; he was sipping an iced glass of water, leaning back, relaxed as can be. He waved at us to come join him; he was sitting at a small conference table behind a fancy glass door. As we did join him, I saw the leftovers of what must have been a business luncheon on the table--the catering staff just hadn't collected the remains yet.
I started to say something like, "We should go; this food isn't ours," but Bob was pouring himself another glass from the pitcher of ice water, and Mary started picking through the salad bowl with her fingers. I sighed and sat down next to Bob as Mary asked him, "Did you pour that soup in that cup?" When he answered the negative, she said, "Well, we should take it with us. Here, Kate: have a tomato." She picked up a cherry tomato from out of the salad bowl and handed it to me, then handed one to Bob and helped herself to one, too.
She then stuck her finger into a container of what ended up being three different salad dressings. Next, she picked up an unused napkin and proceeded to pack three rolls for the road and a bunch of pre-packaged pats of butter. I watched all of this, kind of horrified, as Bob finished his glass of water with his feet propped upon another chair.
As we drove away from the hospital and I commented on their signature behavior, Bob told me, "You should have had a glass of that water, Kate." I told them, "I have my waterskin, thank you. But I am kinda hungry; can I have one of those rolls?"
Just as she told me this, we reached the end of the hall and we found Bob; he was sipping an iced glass of water, leaning back, relaxed as can be. He waved at us to come join him; he was sitting at a small conference table behind a fancy glass door. As we did join him, I saw the leftovers of what must have been a business luncheon on the table--the catering staff just hadn't collected the remains yet.
I started to say something like, "We should go; this food isn't ours," but Bob was pouring himself another glass from the pitcher of ice water, and Mary started picking through the salad bowl with her fingers. I sighed and sat down next to Bob as Mary asked him, "Did you pour that soup in that cup?" When he answered the negative, she said, "Well, we should take it with us. Here, Kate: have a tomato." She picked up a cherry tomato from out of the salad bowl and handed it to me, then handed one to Bob and helped herself to one, too.
She then stuck her finger into a container of what ended up being three different salad dressings. Next, she picked up an unused napkin and proceeded to pack three rolls for the road and a bunch of pre-packaged pats of butter. I watched all of this, kind of horrified, as Bob finished his glass of water with his feet propped upon another chair.
As we drove away from the hospital and I commented on their signature behavior, Bob told me, "You should have had a glass of that water, Kate." I told them, "I have my waterskin, thank you. But I am kinda hungry; can I have one of those rolls?"