Grandpa
Grandpa sat at the table poking at his turkey. It was too dry, but he would never complain about it. It was food, and food was for eating, and if you had food, you were a pretty lucky guy. But still, it was too dry. It was too dry every Thanksgiving. Wendy just wasn’t a very good cook and her husband Ron was an idiot. The kids, Sam and Josie, were also idiots. They looked like they were about college aged. There was still a slim chance they’d grow out of it, but most people grew more and more into it. Grandpa remembered when Wendy was still a child. She had been such a sweet, intelligent girl, and now she was a robotic harpy. A robotic harpy married to an idiot, and she still didn’t know how to cook a turkey. “Ron, what are you doing?” “You said to start…
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