Without hesitation the adult sons lifted their dad onto the coffee table's edge and sat on either side of him to ensure his safety. I handed over the limberjack, grabbed my guitar and off we went.
Buffalo gals won't ya come out tonight, come out tonight, come out tonight; Buffalo gals won't ya come out tonight and dance to the light of the moon. The other daughter got up and grabbed the spoons and joined in. Even Bob's wife smiled at the site of the family band and its impromptu merrymaking.
A memoir by Robin Russell Gaiser
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