Generally our food was not as good as the Attaway cousins but once
when they were sleepoing over my mom had just bought four loafs of
the most amazing white bread. It was soft and chewy and sweet and we
purloined a loaf to eat while my two cousins, my brother and I were
sleeping out on the trampoline. We were taking stacks of four soft
slices and biting through them all at once. We were peeling off the
crust and then wadding up the rest of the dough into a ball and
eating a tasty, tasty dough ball. We were taking a single slice and
trying to stuff the whole thing in our mouth at once. The only
problem was that we ran out of supplies fairly quickly but the show
must go on, and another loaf was secreted out to our bivouac. The second
loaf was gone almost as soon as it landed and a third was required to
keep the party rolling. Like a gambler chasing losses we were back at
the metaphorical bread ATM at two in the morning promising ourselves
that this was the last trip and then we were going to quit no matter
what. But an addict never quits until then supply is exhausted and
the fourth loaf was procured and devoured. Riding a carb high he
goofed off late in the night until our blood sugar plummeted and we
were off to the restful slumber of the diabetic coma. My mom was outside at the side of the trampoline early in the morning ruining our
gluten hangover sleep in with some crazy accusations that we ate all
of the bread for an entire week for a family of 8. I protested that
the bread would have lasted 5 days tops and that she was
exaggerating. She wouldn't be reasoned with and I had to give up my
allowance for the next week to buy back some of the bread. It was
really her fault for buying good bread instead of the usual wheat
bread. It is like punishing a man for drinking when he comes out of
the high in fiber desert.
