Always Room For Jell-O
Ron Nagasawa is on vacation. This column was originally published May 18, 2005.
The other week was a special one for the Nagasawa family. Our 7-year-old daughter received her first holy communion. Although our church is in the middle of major renovations, the event itself overpowered the fact that we were sitting in folding chairs on bare unfinished concrete floors.
Our immediate families were there to witness the sacred event, including my kid brother, who is our daughter’s godfather. Since he is her godfather, he set up a special luncheon to follow the ceremony. He held it at a new nearby restaurant known for its all-you-can-eat buffet.
Walking in, we were overwhelmed by the array of seafood, sushi, entrees and desserts. He had a long table reserved for all of us, and I ended up sitting across from my in-laws. My mother-in-law sat directly in front of me. We conversed as I chowed down as though it were Thanksgiving.
I was getting full and decided to take a break. My father-in-law seemed to be enjoying his food while I spoke to his wife. She was on dessert and had just come back to the table with a small plate of green Jell-O. Now stay with me on this — my mother-in-law is, well, well-endowed.
In the past my father-in-law has proudly compared her to Dolly Parton, although I stay away from the subject due to the nature of my relationship with them.
Anyway, while my mother-in-law was eating the Jell-O, a piece fell down into a pocket created by her blouse and her cleavage.
She’s a very classy lady and while I saw the Jell-O, I didn’t know how I should tell her without embarrassing her or indicating that I was looking at her chest. She quickly realized the “spillage,” looked at me and said, “Ron, why didn’t you say something?”
I think I turned bright red, but replied, “I didn’t even notice that it happened.”
My father-in-law, without looking up from his food, said to her, “Why don’t you throw a couple of shrimps in there so we don’t have to worry about dinner?”