We discovered that the Moochie clan was mobile one pleasant summer evening when they all showed up on our doorstep -- unannounced -- about half an hour before supper time. The law of hospitality required that they be fed, of course. It took a week's worth of groceries to do so.
We were far from being a well-off bunch ourselves so seeing all that food disappear in a single meal was a heavy blow to our family budget. My mother was not pleased.
They stayed for about an hour or so, just long enough to eat and have a short visit. Finally, Moochie pulled my father aside, bummed some smokes and gas money off him and then they all motored off in a cloud of acrid exhaust fumes.
Boy, did my Dad hear about that later, too.
Tomorrow: The Big Bag o' Teeth