"Yes, dear," Frank responded.
"You would think they could find something else to carry on about rather than a woman who knows what needs to be done."
"Yes, dear," Frank uttered again.
"I'm going to call the station and complain about those idiots."
"Whatever you think is best, honey."
As Martha continued ranting about the program on the radio, Frank began drifting ever deeper into the peace and solace that came when he organized his fishing tackle box in anticipation of his yearly trip with his friends to their favorite fishing spot in the mountains. Maybe this year, he would suggest that they try to make it to the lake at least twice.
"Did you hear me?"
"Yes, dear," Frank dreamily responded.
"I thought I heard you mutter something about twice."
"No, dear, I said whatever you decide would be nice."
"Well speak up next time!"
"Yes, dear."
by Stewart Lindsey, Buffalo, NYHank blinked as his eyes started to close. "Um-Hmm", he replied, putting on his sunglasses and nodding off. As he woke, Martha's chatter was still going strong.
"When we only had five fishes for our Fourth of July picnic, Aunt Delores threw all of them in a pot, added some potatoes and bacon, and fed thirty people that day. It was a damn miracle. Those radio guys should be talking about her.
"Is that why y'all used the industrial stapler to fasten her to the church beams?" Hank asked.
"No, that was to make sure she didn't rise from the dead."
by Linnie Wheeless, Vicksburg, MS