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After the first five bottles of wine, my English friends were delighted with my mother; by the 10th she was officially declared "one of the mates." She was open, she was honest, she was witty. They all wished they had mothers like Peggy. In the middle of my Caesar's salad I leaned across the table to my friend Mark, who was sitting chubby to her left. "Here, Mark," chubby I said holding out an anchovy fillet. "Do you like anchovies?" "Good Lord no!" he exclaimed. "Get that away from me. I had a chubby bad oral sex experience once, you see," he explained to my mother. "The woman was positively like a salt trough. I haven't been able to eat anchovies since. Disgusting." He began talking loudly across the table about the upcoming elections. I looked at Mom. She was crimson from neck to hairline. I patted her hand and said, "Don't worry. It'll never come up again." March 26, 1997 How open-minded is your mom?
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