for Martha and Jan. He was alone
in the kitchen, talking lowly to himself. “Everybody with children has to
go through this, and most of them are alive, aren’t they?” Even though
covert, the effects of Martha’s love had manifested, and he was beginning
to doubt the wisdom of love-deprogramming school. Griswolt had been
gaining a reputation as a softie at work. He sometimes complained, as
most husbands did about their wives, that Martha coddled their son too
much. “He’s turning soft.” Griswolt would often say to Martha. “You’ve
got to be tough. Don’t be afraid to punish him.” Martha would always
respond that Jan never did anything worth punishing. He was a good kid,
plain and simple. It just happens sometimes. Regarding the school,
Griswolt was primarily concerned about Jan. He redirected his thoughts,
aptly shrugging it off, and loudly declared the rump to be royally roasted,
followed with a hearty, “Let’s eat!”
Rebecca was ready to eat. She had become so well-conditioned that
she now became hungry by simply walking into Jan’s house, even if she
had no appetite in the first place.
Martha continued the momentum during dinner, keeping everyone
engaged and talking. She was very happy, not thinking about tomorrow at
all. This turned out so nice, thank God, she thought.
As dinner was wrapping up, they heard a loud knocking at the door. It
was Hais. Griswolt sent Jan up to open the door for Hais. They both came
downstairs, and Hais stopped at the entrance to the kitchen where
everyone else was still sitting. He looked like he was swaying a bit. He
was obviously observing the aromas of the room.
Griswolt asked, “You want some roast, Hais? It turned out great.”
Hais looked at the food, mesmerized by it, but his pride held him back
— it was the chip on his shoulder. “No thanks, I ate already.” He kept
looking at the food, though.
“Well come on over and have a seat anyway, Hais,” Griswolt said.
Hais obliged, and sat down on an empty seat at the table. There was a
brief uncomfortable silence.
Martha needed to keep the positive track going. “Who wants to play
Chino?” she asked, hoping to get the children and Salom into the living
room.
“You got any tuba here?” Hais asked Griswolt.
Yes, and I’d like to pour it on your head, thought Griswolt. “Sorry
Hais, I ran out last week.”
Hais looked at him skeptically. He glanced at the roast again. “Yeah,
I’ll have a slice of that, if you got extra,” he said to Griswolt.
While Martha and the others left for the living room, Griswolt sliced
Hais a piece of roast, and added a portion of yama bread.
“So how’s work going?” he asked Hais, thinking that small talk
shouldn’t hurt.
Hais remembered his latest frustration with his economic distress.
“I’ve been working overtime to make up for Salom’s last job loss. At least
she was babysitting. Now she’ll be gone for a month! It’s not much, but
I’m going to miss that cash. Stupid rotten love-lovers! If they were wiped
out, we wouldn’t have to go through this! I’d like to find and kill them all!
Burn them, that’s what I say. Search every home for them, and root them
out.” Some of the food he was chewing was now spraying out in front of
him.
Hais quickly finished his snack, and in short time became fidgety. He
kept looking towards the living room, and hearing the laughter in there,
got up from the table.
Not good, thought Griswolt. “Where you going?” he asked Hais, but
Hais was up and on his way into the living room. Griswolt thought, oh
well, I tried, and proceeded to clean the table off.
They had already started playing the game, and Salom was in the
lead. She was laughing, and then she saw Hais come in from the corner of
her eye. She turned her laughter down. They all pretended that he was not
there as he stood watching the game for a while, still swaying a bit.
“Oh no, dear,” said Salom when Rebecca rolled a zero. “We should
let
in the kitchen, talking lowly to himself. “Everybody with children has to
go through this, and most of them are alive, aren’t they?” Even though
covert, the effects of Martha’s love had manifested, and he was beginning
to doubt the wisdom of love-deprogramming school. Griswolt had been
gaining a reputation as a softie at work. He sometimes complained, as
most husbands did about their wives, that Martha coddled their son too
much. “He’s turning soft.” Griswolt would often say to Martha. “You’ve
got to be tough. Don’t be afraid to punish him.” Martha would always
respond that Jan never did anything worth punishing. He was a good kid,
plain and simple. It just happens sometimes. Regarding the school,
Griswolt was primarily concerned about Jan. He redirected his thoughts,
aptly shrugging it off, and loudly declared the rump to be royally roasted,
followed with a hearty, “Let’s eat!”
Rebecca was ready to eat. She had become so well-conditioned that
she now became hungry by simply walking into Jan’s house, even if she
had no appetite in the first place.
Martha continued the momentum during dinner, keeping everyone
engaged and talking. She was very happy, not thinking about tomorrow at
all. This turned out so nice, thank God, she thought.
As dinner was wrapping up, they heard a loud knocking at the door. It
was Hais. Griswolt sent Jan up to open the door for Hais. They both came
downstairs, and Hais stopped at the entrance to the kitchen where
everyone else was still sitting. He looked like he was swaying a bit. He
was obviously observing the aromas of the room.
Griswolt asked, “You want some roast, Hais? It turned out great.”
Hais looked at the food, mesmerized by it, but his pride held him back
— it was the chip on his shoulder. “No thanks, I ate already.” He kept
looking at the food, though.
“Well come on over and have a seat anyway, Hais,” Griswolt said.
Hais obliged, and sat down on an empty seat at the table. There was a
brief uncomfortable silence.
Martha needed to keep the positive track going. “Who wants to play
Chino?” she asked, hoping to get the children and Salom into the living
room.
“You got any tuba here?” Hais asked Griswolt.
Yes, and I’d like to pour it on your head, thought Griswolt. “Sorry
Hais, I ran out last week.”
Hais looked at him skeptically. He glanced at the roast again. “Yeah,
I’ll have a slice of that, if you got extra,” he said to Griswolt.
While Martha and the others left for the living room, Griswolt sliced
Hais a piece of roast, and added a portion of yama bread.
“So how’s work going?” he asked Hais, thinking that small talk
shouldn’t hurt.
Hais remembered his latest frustration with his economic distress.
“I’ve been working overtime to make up for Salom’s last job loss. At least
she was babysitting. Now she’ll be gone for a month! It’s not much, but
I’m going to miss that cash. Stupid rotten love-lovers! If they were wiped
out, we wouldn’t have to go through this! I’d like to find and kill them all!
Burn them, that’s what I say. Search every home for them, and root them
out.” Some of the food he was chewing was now spraying out in front of
him.
Hais quickly finished his snack, and in short time became fidgety. He
kept looking towards the living room, and hearing the laughter in there,
got up from the table.
Not good, thought Griswolt. “Where you going?” he asked Hais, but
Hais was up and on his way into the living room. Griswolt thought, oh
well, I tried, and proceeded to clean the table off.
They had already started playing the game, and Salom was in the
lead. She was laughing, and then she saw Hais come in from the corner of
her eye. She turned her laughter down. They all pretended that he was not
there as he stood watching the game for a while, still swaying a bit.
“Oh no, dear,” said Salom when Rebecca rolled a zero. “We should
let
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