January 18, 1995

by jkatejohnston

Dear Max,

Last night Teresa and I went out to dinner, and the napkin lining our bread basket caught fire from the candle. I picked it up and wrapped the napkin around the flame to snuff it out, and then the owner of the restaurant walked by and whisked the burned napkin away. It was all over so fast that I felt a little disappointed.

“I didn’t even see that,” said Teresa. “You saved me.”  I think she sensed my disappointment because she added, “You should have emptied your water glass on it.  That would have been much more dramatic.”

A few minutes later a large piece of buttered bread hurtled through the air and hit me squarely on the chest.  “Sorry!” said the people at the next table.  “Did he get you?”  Their little boy (about three I think) had been the one to cream me.

“Bulls-eye!” I said.

“Sorry!” called the boy, “Sorry!”  He seemed pretty happy about it.  Teresa and I laughed and then she said quietly to me, “This place is full of perils.

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