Out of a doze, into a tavern. Burgers, seafood, beer. Prop up the cast on a chair, so much more comfortable that way. Cold beer, even nonalcoholic never tasted so good. After a dozen Breaking Bad reruns, the real world looks sharp, magnificent .
What’s that on your face, said my father to my husband.
It’s my project beard, said Gil. I’ll cut it when I finish my book.
Christmas isn’t for four months, said my dad, suggesting Gil could get a job as a mall Santa. He went back to calculating the check.
Just a touch more coffee, said my mother to the waitress. No, that’s too much.
Just drink what you want, said my father.
I’ll finish my cold, cold beer. Crunch a last potato chip. Swing my way home to the couch.
Did you know it rained today? Like sheets of rock candy, or maybe that’s from Breaking Bad.
Jean Zimmerman 
OH! It’s good (heart-warming) to see a pair of loving, perennially peripatetic parents, touching base with their temporarily hobbled (though usually footloose) daughter and her family! I might say.. it’s ENCHANTMENT!
Briefly.
Well, you’re entertaining, anyway. I put the book aside for you.
Nice to see you ambulating, anyway!
Now we’re famous! You can do a lot with a little!
I forgot the book you were going to give me. Please bring when we see you next. Thanks.
M.
Sent from my iPad