"What in the Hell are you doing?" I demand the first time I witness him empty the wax paper onto the desk, straighten the white powder into a thin line, roll up a dollar bill and snort it up his nose.
"I think you're suppose to swallow the stuff," I offer.
"Why?" he asks wiping his nose with his sleeve, "I don't have a stomach ache."
I don't know how to respond.
"I got a headache," he continues. "This is the fastest way to get rid of it."
I found it hard to not love Rodger Pack.
It made such an impression I included the whole scene in my book "Tour of Homes" though, honestly, I haven't thought about it in years.
Until last night.
Sarah's oldest, Maddie's been on a four week trip with her grandmother, the Virgin Mary.
The Virgin Mary is a very devote, opinionated and dictatorial Catholic and as she and her husband drove Maddie across the country they stopped for Church a lot.
The Virgin Mary and her husband prayed and genuflected while 12 year old Maddie checked out the boys.
Anyway ... Maddie returned home last night bearing presents for Sarah, her sisters and me!
I got a bottle of Holy Water.
A white cap carved into a rose adorns the top of a glass vial with an elaborate metal engraving of Jesus touching his scared heart and a Celtic Cross behind his head.
For some reason ... the number "69" is on the bottom.
"Is this from you or the Virgin Mary?" I ask as she laughs when handing it to me though it quickly turns to horror when I unscrew the top and take swig.
"Oh My God," Maddie exclaims covering her mouth as her sisters burst out laughing.
"What?" I ask before taking a snort up both nostrils, "I want to be filled with Jesus."
"I'm going to tell my Grandmother," Maddie threatens.
"Go for it," I reply.
Cassidy, Sarah's 7 year old, asks, "Can I have some?"
"No precious child," I explain, "this is all mine."
Laurel, the 10 year old and by far the most religious of the girls, tells us she's going to her room.
"It's only eight o'clock," Sarah says. "It's too early to go to bed."
"I'm not going to bed," Laurel explains walking down the stair. "I'm going to pray for Mike."
"Aw thanks Laurel," I beam. "That can only help."
