Radishes and UFO's

I have a small confession. I am one of those people who believe in UFO's (Unidentified Flying Objects). I have been a fan of science fiction movies for years. It all started with Rod Sterling's "Twilight Zone". In fact,that theme song music in my head as I type. As a kid I would stay up late in the summer just to watch the scary aliens and space ships land on planet earth and today I still enjoy a good Sci-Fi movie.

By now you must be asking, "What on earth has radishes to do with UFO's?" Well, give me a little more time and I will explain.

I was recently chatting on one of the many forums that I love to idle away my hours and the topic came up about using radishes in cooking in lieu of fried potatoes. Well, I'm here to tell you, I don't think a radish could ever be as good as a fried potato. I don't especially like radishes but I had to giggle when I thought of them again. Years ago, after I had grown and moved out of my family home, my Mom ended up in the hospital with lumps in her breast. We were all worried that it could be cancer and in those days the only option was a mastectomy. It was a very stressed time for my Dad, brother, and two sisters.

Dad and I had been at the hospital for hours and both of us were tired and hungry. My dad suggested we get a bite to eat. So, we did. We found this place that seemed to be nice and went in. It was just a little fancier than we normally visited but we were dressed up from being at the hospital. In the "old days" people dressed up when they went out in public. Never the less, Dad and I ordered from the pricey menu.

It took a while for the food to arrive and when it was placed on the table my first impression was "and this cost that much?" Needless, to say the portions were tiny. We were hungry. My dad placed the cloth napkin in his lap (after all we weren't raised in a barn, we did know how to act in a fancy smancy restaurant).

Dad ate his small steak and potato first then decided to tackle his tiny salad. He just happened to have a whole red radish in his salad. At home my dad would have picked up the radish, dipped it in salt and popped it into his mouth. Not here in this fancy place. He was trying to be a gentleman of "manners." He took it out and placed it on his plate so gently then proceeded to stick his fork in it. To both our amazement it went flying out across the restaurant and hit this elderly blue haired lady in the back of her neck. Oh my gosh! She turned around and did not know for sure what had hit her or who had thrown something at her. She was not a happy patron.

Dad looked at me and I stifled a grin back and we looked around, too, as if to say "sorry, we didn't see who did it."

I think we held it together pretty good but when we got to the car I could not hold it anymore. I laughed so hard my sides hurt.

It sure eased our stress level with Mom being in the hospital.

Laughter...it's so good for the soul.