(Last Sunday's supper)
Back when I was free to bring home girlfriends, they would eventually be invited for that first dinner at our house. It was always informal, and often my Dad would break out his shrimp frying skills and treat us to an all you can eat shrimp fry.
We would eat and talk and as we did, the shrimp tails would pile up on everyone's plate. Eventually, he would turn to the new girl, feign surprise and announce, " My goodness, look how many shrimp tails are on your plate!" This might be accompanied by a showing of his plate which had way less tails on it than it should. I believe the dog beneath the table was his accomplice.
Of course the new girl, (insert any female name here) would blush, and mutter something like, "..But they were so good, ... ", more blushing and then the beans would be spilled. We'd chuckle and Dad would look forward to the next time.
The first time I brought the future Mrs. FC home from college, Mom asked me if she liked shrimp (Yes) and so I knew what was coming.
So there we were munching fried crustaceans when the moment came. Dad leaned over to get a look at her plate and THERE WERE NO TAILS!
Not the first tail and yet, the future Mrs. FC had obviously been keeping up with the rest of us.
The dog wasn't in on it ... he was down under Dad's chair playing his role.
So, instead of his usual tease, he asked, " Honey, where are your shrimp tails?"
She looked down at all our plates with their mounds of little shrimp butts and said,
"OH, ... I EAT THEM"
We stared at her as if she had eaten the table's center piece.
"You EAT the tails?!"
We may have said that in perfect unison, we were equally amazed.
"Try one, you'll see", she said as she slipped a crunchy tail into her mouth.
She was right, they were tastey and crunchy, a perfect mix.
Well, I thought so at least, but I was newly in love.
Over the course of a marriage, I have been completely converted and now neither one of us leaves shrimp tails on our plates.
Dad still does.