Saturday, May 24, 2008

Buffalo's and Ants

I like it when something triggers my memory of a funny story that could have easily been forever lost. I can't recall the trigger now, but here is the story:

When we first moved to Ft. Stewart, the folk choir would go out to eat after Mass. It became a custom to go to Buffalo's. Ben enjoyed the BBQ chicken wings more than most people. He could polish off a basket of 10 wings himself. The process was more than messy. No one was allowed to wipe his hands or face until he was done eating. Most nights, the sauce would be up to his wrists and quite often I would find it in his ears. I always enjoyed watching him eat his wings.

After dinner, we would stand in the parking lot chatting before heading home. One evening, I looked over at Ben and he was chewing on something. I asked him to spit out whatever was in his mouth. He did and handed it to me. It was a piece of candy. I asked him where he had found it and he pointed to the ground. I then asked him why he had chosen to do so and he answered me matter-of-factly, "Because it was the one without any ants on it."