John ambled into the kitchen. “What’s cooking?”
“Mushroom gravy.” Mary kept stirring.
John frowned. “Toadstools. Fungi. Dorothy Sayers killed someone with Amanita.“
“These are morels.” She added salt. “Everybody eats mushrooms.”
He sat down. “Where’d you buy them?”
“I picked them.”
“Aunt Helen helped. She knows ‘shrooms.” Mary held out a spoonful. “Taste.”
“Well . . . ” John tasted. “Mmmm. Seconds?”
“Yoo-hoo.” Aunt Helen bustled in. “Like my new glasses? Those old ones–I couldn’t see doodly squat.”
Mary looked at the gravy, then at John. “Maybe you should spit that out,” she said.
8 thoughts on “‘Shrooms”
Just had Saturday morning mushrooms on toast, from the local community farm…
Mission for the day – to drop doodly squat into a conversation.
Well done, nicely cooked story.
Loved the twist at the end on this one. It made me chuckle.
hahaha! definitely spit them out:) love this simple tale! easy to visualize.
If he’s saying “seconds,” he’s probably already swallowed. And if it’s amanita, which is extremely poisonous…yeah.
laughing…! So funny. Cute story.
Your last lines had me laughing. Very visual.
I liked it…gray, not dark.
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