My Wife Ran Off With A Hooligan
My son’s family suddenly returned from abroad.
I did not understand a single word at the dinner table. They were speaking in a foreign language.
My grandson, Aiden, looked me up and down and said loudly, “Dad, Grandpa’s face is all bumpy and scarred. He’s lame, too. He’s so ugly!”
My son waved his hand nonchalantly and said, “That was caused by a shell blast. Anyone who served in the military looks like that.”
I did not understand their conversation. I simply placed the fish I had deboned onto his plate in silence.
My grandson, however, became agitated. He picked up the hot soup and splashed it on my face.
Then he cursed at me in broken English, saying, “Stay away, ugly monster! If it weren’t for you refusing to die, Grandma Sloane and Grandpa Wallace could’ve come home years ago!”
My mind went blank. My wife had passed away decades ago.
Who was this “Grandpa Wallace”?