Survivor: Shreveport (2)
There's always a signature moment during a trip to Shreveport, a moment where you desperately wish your head would explode.This time, there were two.
The first was Saturday afternoon, when an aunt began discussing, at length, the news story about the pit bull who ate off a baby's toes.
This discussion happened at lunch, with Eli 5.4 sitting two chairs down, although we quickly went for an extended walk, during which I shot up a flare that I hoped would attract the attention of the American Red Cross.
That night, though, produced a moment that will live in Shreveport infamy. We were having dinner with three members of Gloria's family. Halfway through the meal, I looked to my right at one person and he had this translucent pea of post-nasal drip hanging from his nose.
It bounded and swayed and wobbled. It was a peppy little pea.
In desperation, I turned to my left, where I saw another family member eating a piece of Texas toast (which has the dimensions of regular bread except that it's about 1" thick) with a fork. Not pieces of toast--he had speared the whole piece of bread and was holding it in front of his face. The toast covered almost his entire face except for his mouth, and there was this one moment where I thought I was looking at a lanky piece of toast that was slowly eating its own head.
Sure, you make it back home, but you're never the same.
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