When my mom worked second shift when I was little in days before (with reason)factories feared lawsuits from outside people walking the floor, my dad would take us to eat “lunch” at about 7 p.m. with my mom in her break room. He never said it, but I just think my dad missed my mom. They’d see each other for about 30 minutes in the morning, and that was it. I’d only see her for even less during the school year. So we’d drive 15 miles there and back to see her for 20 minutes. We’d walk the floor and go to the break room with a packed lunch, and my dad would always buy me a packet of Famous Amos cookies. That’s what eating one of those cookies makes me think about. The smell of oil from the presses, a lunchmeat sandwich, a few bites of cookies and a few rare minutes with my mom. Thanks, Amos.
And now I’m Don Draper and the ****ing Hershey bar story. Jesus.
