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ach. “I think I ate a few too many, however,” she said coyly. “I was up half the night getting rid of them.”
Uncle Fred whispered to Aunt Suzanne and Joy. “Who’s her insurance agent? I hope her insurance is paid up.”
Finally the mushroom expert left with a bag full of several pounds of $29 mushrooms. Aunt Suzanne, Uncle Fred, and Joy told Earl and Clovis about their adventure.
“Some expert,” said Uncle Fred. “She gets sick on her own mushrooms. Did you get the name of the restaurant? Because I never want to eat there! I’ll get my mushrooms from the can with the picture of the Jolly Green Giant.”
“Actually,” he added, “I’m the real mushroom expert. Did you know that? I’ll show you.” Uncle Fred led us down the trail. “Those mushrooms over there,” he said waving his left arm, “are left-side of the road mushrooms. And these” - he waved his right arm “...are right side of the mushrooms.”
He pointed to one lonely mushroom in the middle of the trail that had somehow escaped being crashed underfoot. “And this mushroom is the best kind of all - it’s a middle of the road mushrooms - Toadstoolis middleoftheroadensis! Thirty dollars a pound! What else do you need to know?
Everyone else knew enough and had heard enough, and headed back to the house. That evening Aunt Suzanne cooked spaghetti for supper. She prepared her usual excellent sauce with ripe tomatoes, a variety of spices, hamburger, sausage, and store-bought mushrooms.
The spaghetti sauce looked, smelled, and tasted as good as always. But most folks lacked a hearty appetite that night, and most plates had some spaghetti sauce left over. Uncle Fred was the only one who ate all his mushrooms.
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