Cliff's brother, Donald, came with his buddy yesterday and brought an old eyesore of an Oliver tractor. Cliff is to enjoy the tractor for as long as he wants (he's always had a penchant for Olivers), see if he can get a few bugs worked out of it, and then try to sell it; anything it brings over $2,500 is his. ::sighing::
Since Don was going to be here anyway, and does a lot of transmission work, Cliff's brother, Phil, came over and had him re-work the transmission for his pickup.
I fixed them cheeseburgers for lunch, and had some great fun: I made one burger for everybody and was left with enough ground beef to make a tiny patty, about 1 1/2 inches across. Everybody realizes how closely I monitor Cliff's food intake; so when they all gathered at the table, I put that tiny burger on Cliff's plate, saying, "Here's yours, Cliff."
Then I put the platter with the regular burgers in the middle of the table and told them to dig in.
I kid you not, Donald's mouth was agape, and when he finally found some words, he said, "Are you serious?"
I had warned Cliff in advance what I was going to do.
I couldn't keep up the farce long because I was laughing so hard.