As part of the Ad Altare Dei program, which I am teaching again, several of my scouts, including J, fed the homeless breakfast at the St. Francis center in downtown LA this Saturday. W joined us, as did a few parents. (I took the photo above. The kid in the center is another volunteer with whom we had breakfast after the service was over.)
W spent the whole service in the kitchen, making batches of toast. During the service, I was a table captain, clearing spaces, arranging place settings, and generally looking after the guests. J helped distribute jelly to those who wanted it.
All told, we served 219 guests.
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We arrived just before 7 AM to help prep the food. While I was slicing apples, another volunteer said to me “Hi Tom! I haven’t seen you in a while! Oh, sorry! I thought you loooked like someone else. Doesn’t he look like Tom, Steve? Steve’s my husband. You look just like our friend, Tom. We’ve known him for a few years, and he is soooo HOT!”
I stood there a second, an apple in one hand and a knife in the other, thinking that she just told me I look like her friend who looks so hot.
Later at home, I did what any modern, enlightened, honest husband would do: I confessed the incident to my wife.
And then I spent the whole weekend being really smug about it.