Guts of Iron

After my mother's passing, a vegetable never passed my father's lips. He ate at restuarants and prided himself on his easy BMs or bowel movements. I never heard him burp. Not even when we ate at Tony's on Wollaston Beach. He would chase down fried clams with a chocolate shake without any indigestion. I mentioned this feat to several of my Hassidic friends on the diamond exchange and they lifted their hands in the air like they were listening to the heavy metal band Metalish.

"Oi vey, double tref."

Dairy and shellfish.

I've never tried it, but like I always say, "Like father like son."

My father loved the view from there and so did my mother.

I hope they are sitting there now in the glow of the universe.