Room Service

The only time we ever got to spend the night in a hotel was almost ruined by my brother’s insistence that we order room delivery.  He believed no one in their right mind could eat plain peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in a room this nice.  Larry needed a hamburger and a cold Coca-Cola.  Why that was the nicest meal he could think of was beyond me.  Larry refused to eat or drink anything for dinner unless it was a hamburger and Coke.  He called it his very own hunger strike.  I don’t even know when he could have heard about hunger strikes as they aren’t usually talked about in second grade. 

“I need a hamburger!  And a coke!”  Larry yelled again.  “That is all I want!  A hot hamburger and a cold coke.” 

We had now been listening to him go on and on about the hamburger and coke for over an hour and I could tell it was starting to grate on my father’s nerves.  We were heading to Texas to meet our grandmother for the first time and our mom was already there.  My dad didn’t usually hang around Larry and I because he was always working.  Larry knew if he yelled loud and long enough, our dad would cave.  I knew this was just the beginning.  Even at seven he could already manipulate with the best of them.  I only wish I had known what was coming next.  Then I could have prepared myself. 


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