The Back Scratcher

My nephews, Bob, Jeff and David remind me of this story every time I see them. I never thought it strange because I had seen my dad in action all my life and viewed his behaviours as normal. Maybe they weren't.

The three boys, ages 11, 9, and 7 were visiting Dad and Mom and me at our home. They didn't often venture too far from their home in the the mountains.

Dad was king of the kitchen when he was home. When he wasn't preparing a meal or cleaning he was sitting at the kitchen table smoking and reading the paper while listening to news on the radio. He seldom wore a shirt or socks and often wore khaki pants held up by a rope where a belt should be. My sister, Sylvia, often referred to Mom and Dad as hillbillies with money.

Dad was making pancakes for the boys, while cleaning the kitchen. A tea towel slung over one shoulder, he held a pancake flipper in hand when he entered to living room where the boys played.

"How many pancakes would everyone like?" he asked, as he reached over his shoulder to scratch his bare back with the same spatula he was using to flip the pancakes.

The boys all dropped their jaws at this sight and replied in unison "We’re not very hungry."