It was close to 11:00 PM when Martha rolled slowly from her side to a sitting position on the edge of the bed and whispered to her husband, “Fred… Are you awake… Honey?”
Fred managed to crash through a deep slumber and sat straight up asking, “Wha… Honey… What ? Is it time yet?’ Martha sighed and said, “No, You Daft Fool… I’m hungry…”. Fred slumped down against the headboard and with faux cheer he asked, “Okay Dear… What’ll it be THIS time?”
“Escargots…” She smoothly told him, “I want those Escargots your friends down at the French Restaurant are always going on about…” Fred smiled at his very gravid woman, and whispered, “You go back to sleep dear and just leave this to me… Escargots it is…”
He dressed haphazardly with his night robe and slippers and walked as quickly as he could down to the “House of Haute Cuisine”; a very posh, continental local dining place that kept very late hours for their tourist clientele.
When the Maître D' saw his friend Fred coming into the restaurant, he chuckled and said, “Why Freddy… what has you all rumpled and showing up here at near midnight ...in your Bed Clothes?”
Fred offered a wan smile and replied, “Well Charlie… Somehow… the Lil’ Woman has went and got herself pregnant again. She’s as Big as a Barn and very Quick Tempered, too. She wakes up just now and says she ‘Wants French Snails drowned in Garlic Butter’, don’t you know…?”
His tuxedo garbed friend shook his head knowingly and quietly guided the ill-attired man through a side door into the Kitchen where some of his other mates were enjoying the remains of a few Magnums of Champagne wine that survived from the dining tables and went back through the double doors.
“Have a drop with us Fred while Chef Henri prepares your ‘Double Order of ‘Escargot…’ ... to go.” Fred’s eyes sparkled almost as brightly as the glass of “Bubbly” the smiling apple cheeked Chef handed off to the very anxious man.
Time passed between his jokes, their laughs and the sounds of tinkling glasses and it was damned near closing time at 3:00 AM when Fred left there with his Big Brown Bag in hand and finally managed to toddle his way up into the long driveway at his home.
But unbeknownst to this tipsy fellow was the fact that as the hours had passed between sips and stories with his friends… the fragrant Garlic Butter that had spilled out into the bag holding his precious cargo of seasoned Snails ...and worn a hole out down inside the bottom.
Just as he arrived at his front step, the front screen door suddenly flew wide open and his red-faced wife stood there menacingly brandishing her Rolling Pin in hand and bellowed at him… “WHERE the Hell have you been? I sent you off HOURS ago? WHERE are my ESCARGOTS?”
Terrified, the man looked sheepishly up at his wife… then down at the suddenly light weight and empty carry bag and then further back behind towards a solid line of Buttered Snails that had fallen out onto the driveway in a fairly straight line.
Fred reacted instantly by squinting up at his swollen bride and while trying to gently ‘shush’ her, he grandly gestured behind himself with a swirling arm and with a softer voice he said, "Hold the Door... would you Dear? Come on Lads… Now… Let’s Stay together... Shall we?”