Bon Appetit

Having arrived so early this cold, December day, I wasn’t sure Uncle Lenny was even awake at this hour.  It was only 7:30 and he often slept in during the colder months.  However, when he knew Jamaal, Timon, and I were en route to visit him, he practically fought sleep. He couldn't possibly be awake right now. He wasn't expecting us.

When we left for college in London back in August, his countenance was one of sadness intermingled with excitement.  On that day, we promised to see him at Christmas. His response?  “If you can pull it off, I’ll eat my hat!”

“Here we are!” said Timon, opening the front door with the key our uncle had given us.  

“Do you have it?” Jamaal asked me with a smile.

“Yes indeed!” I chimed, my eyes an even mixture of contentment and excitement.

Off in the distance, with a tiny beam of light shining on him from his lamp, was Uncle Lenny.  A look of bewilderment etched upon his seventy-five year old face.

“Hi Uncle Lenny!” we chorused, all zooming at the speed of light in his direction.

“My children! Hi!” he exclaimed, joyful tears in his eyes.

“You remember your promise don’t you unc?” I asked, joshingly. 

“Most certainly.”

“Bon appetit Unc!” I replied, handing him a straw hat.

“Excuse me?”

“When we left in August for London, what did you promise to eat if we could get back here for Christmas?”

“My hat.”

“Bon appetit,” I repeated, handing him the straw delicacy.

Laughing softly as if still not fully awake, he took the straw hat, and put it on his kitchen counter. 

“My Christmas is now all the merrier! My boys are home! I’ll eat a thousand hats today!”

“Uncle Lenny, is there anything you need to make it easier to set up for your party?” asked Timon.

“It’s a piece of cake.”

“Uncle Lenny, you promised us you’d take it easy. Some of that stuff is too heavy.  I know you got a strong personality and done got used to being independent, but we came home early this Christmas to help you.  Now, what is it that you need?”

“It’s a piece of cake, I told you!”

“Is that a fact?” I inquired, “Because those chairs look heavy.  Me, Timon, and  Jamaal are gonna put them where they belong.”

“Be careful guys! Be very careful with them, they’re older than Methuselah.  Those belonged to your great grandmother, Mama Ethel.”

“We got you Unc, we’ll have it done in no time.”

“Yeah right.  If you guys finish setting those chairs in less than ten minutes, I’ll eat my hat.”

“You always say that Unc, but you never do.”

“I’ll tell you what, let’s make a bet.”

“Deal!” I beamed, high fiving Timon and Jamaal. 

Rushing more rapidly than the Shenandoah River on the stormiest of days, we worked together as if in an assembly line, passing the chairs down, one to the next, and the last person setting the chair in front of the immaculate table.

“Uncle Lenny,” smiled Jamaal, making his way across the kitchen.  “What does the stopwatch say?”

“Eight minutes and forty-two seconds.”

“Is that less than ten minutes?”

“Yep!”

“So doesn’t that mean you owe us something?”

“Yep! And don’t think for a second that I won’t, I said I’ll eat my hat and that’s what I’m gonna do.  I’m a man of my word.”

“All right, we’re holding you to that,” Timon retorted, draping his muscular arm across Uncle Lenny’s frail shoulder, pausing for  a moment before continuing to assist with the party prep.

“Uncle Lenny, is that table too heavy for you?” I inquired, concerned.  “Let me give you a hand with that, what else do you need?”

“Piece of cake,” he responded, seemingly straining, determined to put the table in the spot where guests would be eating.

“We got it Uncle Lenny,” said Timon, running over to him.

“If you guys can get that table in place, in less than three minutes, I’ll eat twice my share of hat.”

“Ready, set, go!” we chorused, rushing the table to the front wall.

“That wasn’t even two minutes Uncle Lenny.  Now, your turn to uphold your end of the bargain,” smiled Jamaal.  “You ready to eat your hat?”

“I sure am.”

“Be my guest,” I said, handing him two baseball caps, amused at the thought.

With that, Uncle Lenny took the caps and put them down on the countertop behind him.  

“We had a deal. ALLLLL. . . . I’m telling,” teased Timon.

“We sure did,” Uncle Lenny responded, a sinister smirk now consuming his whole facial expression.  

“Here you go Jamal,” said Uncle Lenny, reaching into the refrigerator behind him. 

 What was he doing? Why had he pulled that out?  Beginning to think my beloved uncle was losing his mind, we stared at him bewildered.   

“Unc, whatchu doin’?” Timon questioned, his eyes wide like silver dollars.

“Uncle Lenny, what are you doing with this?” Jamaal chimed in.

“You’re gonna see, you just wait,” Uncle Lenny said nonchalantly, going back into his fridge.

Then it happened! When I saw what he’d done, I had to ask myself why I was so surprised.  This was Uncle Lenny we were talking about.  A man who was quick, quirky, and quaint, something of this sort was much his cup of tea.

Handing Jamaal a package of frozen carrots, a small plastic sack of potatoes,  and some freshly refrigerated ground beef, Uncle Lenny smiled as if up to no good.  

“The flour and oil are over on the Lazy Susan.”

“What is this for Unc?” Jamaal inquired.

“I think my three favorite nephews are either deaf or disobedient.”

“Come again.”

“You all asked me what I needed, and I told you, but I still don’t have it.”

“What did you say you needed?”

“A piece of cake! Now get to work! You’re in culinary school now, studying to be a chef, just like your uncle.  My heart is delighted today.  And I can’t wait for my special cake.” 

“You still gotta eat your hat too,” I teased.

“Barrington, we made no such deal.”

“Did too,” laughed Timon, showing Uncle Lenny how he had recorded the conversations on his iphone.

“Clean your ears my boy,” said Uncle Lenny, patting his shoulder as if to say he had one upped him.  “I said I'll eat my HATTE, not my HAT,” he continued, now laughing heartily.  “You know, that medieval cake filled with beef, carrots, and potatoes.  Why, I’m utterly shocked that you guys, having lived in London all this time, couldn't hear the difference.”

Well, I had to hand it to him, quirky or not, my uncle was sharp as a tack.  One of many reasons he remained everyone’s favorite uncle.  

“I think he got us there Jamal,” I smiled, realizing that Uncle Lenny was still just as witty as ever.

“No doubt,” said Jamal, pulling the hattes from the grease, taking great care in placing each one on a porcelain plate as if it were gold.  Then setting the plate in front of Uncle Lenny, he smiled  “Bon appetit Unc.”

“I’m a man of my word! And after all, you held me to it!” he giggled delightfully, gulping down his prized treasure.