Thursday, February 19, 2009
Whatever you do, don't forget the 'Li'l Smokies'!
(Lark News is one of my favorite places for a good laugh. This one caught my attention today... and made me laugh out loud)
Church picnic ruined when couple breaks Li'l Smokies pledge
TACOMA — Two hundred people who had anticipated Living Grace Church's annual picnic were gravely disappointed when the couple who signed up to bring a crock pot full of Li'l Smokies bathed in barbecue sauce forgot the dish.
One by one, attendees at Gann Park scanned the rows of food.
"Where's the Smokies?" one man asked his wife. She whispered the circulating rumor that they had been forgotten. In anger, the man cracked his plate in half and threw it in the trash, then repaired to a nearby tree to smolder.
The Moore family, who had volunteered to bring the Li'l Smokies, sat with grim expressions. Nobody approached them, save one reporter.
"We blew it," Doug Moore said. "We signed up for it, and then forgot."
A few feet away, people had left a spot on the table by the card that read, "Moores: Li'l Smokies," hoping that the picnic favorite might miraculously appear. Some stared at the spot in silence.
"We remembered the A&W root beer," Sandy Moore said, trying to inject a note of grace.
Meanwhile, an atmosphere of gallows humor prevailed. The pastor shook people's hands and made non-specific comments like, "We'll do better next year. It's okay." The volleyball net sat idle. Nobody donned the gunny sacks for the usually festive 100-yard dash.
Timothy and his wife Rhonda sat on the grass holding plates of cold, uneaten quiche, mayonnaise-heavy macaroni salad and pretzels. Their children played tag around the monkey bars.
"I told the kids I'd get a game of softball going, but I don't feel like it," Timothy said. "There's a hole in my stomach where those Smokies should be."
Frustrated organizer Jim Braswell found it hard to settle down. "They put their signatures on the sign-up sheet," he said, pointing to line 23. A few others were considering formal action against the Moores, he said, perhaps stripping them of small-group host home status, or compelling them to chaperone the junior high kids at church camp. But most people didn't want punishment, just a taste of their beloved barbecue-flavored dish.
After a little while, the Moores slipped away quietly, taking their untouched A&W 2-liter bottles. Then the rest of the group dispersed. •