FATHER’S—Bellows Falls, VT—by Justin Grimbol

father-s-restaurant

The creek near our cabin is frozen over. But I can still see water moving under the ice in some parts. And at night, my dog kicks me in the face. Then she leans on me and chews her butt for a while. It’s hard to sleep. Marital fights happen.
Also, the old men at Father’s restaurant love to laugh at the weathermen on the TV.
“Look at that guy holding the shovel,” one guy says. “He looks so confused. Maybe he doesn’t know what the shovel is. Maybe he think it’s a spoon or something.”
“All he wants is a big bowl of Lucky Charms,” another guy says. “But he doesn’t want to get fat. Those weather people gotta stay skinny, like super models.”

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