Soul Food
November 14, 2009
He wakes up one evening and smiles at me.
“Shane, do you have something to eat here?”
“Papa,” I say, “you just had dinner an hour ago.”
“No,” he insists, “I didn’t have dinner yet. I’m so hungry.”
He looks at his desk and points at a plastic canister. It used to be a cracker box but now its where we store his toiletries.
“That, give me some of that bread,” he says.
“But Papa, thats no bread.” And I show him his stuff, lifting them up one by one. He spots the powder bottle and says,” Yea, give me that one.”
“Why, Papa?”
“I’ll just eat it the way it is.”
He thought it was flour.
