I beg, and they put me off for weeks but finally acquiesce. Dad digs out the projector and the boxes of slides in one Kodak box after another. Mom has me climb the step stool to reach up into the crevasses of the highest kitchen storage cabinet to fetch the old green monster for making homemade malts. She pops the popcorn on the stovetop into big metal bowls and we each receive a thick kitchen dish towel as a heavy-duty napkin. (No wonder, then, that I nearly swoon when my husband pops ... View Post