My parents used to do this thing every night at the dinner table. When my dad came home the family went into assigned roles. He walked in and the serving dishes keeping warm in the oven were carried into the dining room that had already been set by anyone my mom found watching TV. Watching TV was one of the lowest forms of existing. We were made to feel guilty about such an indulgence while there are soldiers fighting a war for their country.
If we were going to indulge in the Brady… Continue