Do you remember that your Dad didn't like pork and beans (i.e. Campbell's). Well, one day, he came into the kitchen and asked your mother what she was making for dinner. She answered, "Pork and beans." And he started grumbling and complaining about how "you know I don't like pork and beans." She had her back to him but I could see her face. She was laughing at her own joke, because she was stir-frying pork and string beans. I have a mental image from sitting in the passenger seat while she was driving. She was pregnant. Her stomach was so large, she had to sit far back, her arms were stretched to the limit to reach the steering wheel, and her big toe barely reached the accelerator. Much, much earlier, when she was pregnant with Wayne and his twin, she came with Mom, Dad, Tom and me, to the house on Lusitana Street which we were about to rent. There were no utensils, and no furniture, etc., just an empty house. I needed a drink of water, and she fashioned a cup out of a piece of paper, rolling it into a cone. I was so impressed by it, I remember it to this day.