Monday was my sister's birthday, so we all went over to my parent's place for dinner. It was a typical family gathering.
My grandad, after a couple of whiskeys, plunked himself down at the dinner table next to my sister. He then exclaimed to everyone at the table; "I'm feeling frisky!". My sister promptly spat out what she had in her mouth (another family tradition). To clarify, my grandad is 91 years old, and the word 'frisky' means something different to him than it did for us. Thank god.
He went on to tell us about a restaurant in his home village of Berrick on Tweed in Scotland. He described the food and said it had been in the same place for 100 years. Then he told us where to find it if we were ever to go. The street name was gaelic, and my grandad has been in Canada for the past 55 years, so I don't think it came out right. What we all heard was "You'll find in down on Sucky Whore road". I covered my face with my napkin, my brother howled, my Mom left the table to compose herself, and my sister spat out what she had in her mouth. For the rest of the evening, whenever a question was asked, my brother would answer with "Sucky Whore Road!".
Our last little tidbit of excitement happened when my mom brought out the brand new passports she, my dad, and my sister had just received in the mail. They were passed around, and we all marvelled at how bad the pictures were, and mimed posing for ones of our own. When the passports came around to my brother, he started goofing around with them and tossing them about. My mom yelled at him, which of course made him act out even more. When he started juggling them, she got really irrate, at which point one of the passports slipped from my brothers grasp and... right into the pot of spaghetti sauce! My brother gasped, my mom yelled, I laughed uncontrollably, and my sister spat out what she had in her mouth.