We Made Elvis Cry

I love this picture of Shari and me...obviously we're freezing (look at Shari's rather cherry nose) and we're getting along well in spite of our winter-weather chill (observe my elbow nailing Shari where it counts).  The pic really doesn't have anything to do with this post except that we were younger girls and it was winter when it happened...

There was the most cantankerous individual sharing residency in the neighborhood where I lived.  His name was Elvis and everyone was afraid of him...at least afraid of being on the other side of his wrath.  He stood maybe 5 foot 6, stocky and wore a military flat top.  Nobody, and I mean nobody messed with Elvis.

One day, my dad pulled me and any sisters (who happened to be within voice-range) aside and said, "Who wants to see Elvis cry".  Oh YEAH!  I'm down!  So we loaded in the car and drove off to watch my dad take Elivs on!  After only about five minutes, we arrived at Elvis' doorstep and dad bravely reached up to the doorbell and pushed the button with superhuman confidence.  As the door edged open, I watched as my hero dad lifted both hands (I knew this was going to be good...no thought of the blood sacrifice, he was going to let Elis have it!).  Dad lifted both palms...and handed Elvis a turkey.  Yup!  A store bought, frozen 20lb turkey. 

And guess what that mean old Elis did.....he cried.

Elvis was a little softer with my dad after that day and I was a little wiser (not sure about Shari and Mindy, but I'm thinking they remember that day as well as I do).

Today it's snowing again, steady and very picture-postcard like.  Brett and I donned our shovels and began scraping the driveway.  Almost simulataneously, we turned to each other and said, "let's go shovel that driveway".  It belongs to the Elvis living here on on my street. 

Yup!  Today I delivered the "Millstream Elvis" a turkey....and I cried.