A Picnic Proposed

Well, well, well, here's Mama Bloom's brood. It is just before dinner in the Bloome household. Papa hasn't arrived yet from business. The two girls are trying to sew Mama on an idea.

Why do we have to stay home Sunday afternoon? Just when the weather's getting nice and the car's in good order, then you want us to stay home. Sure, we could drive to the lake. Yeah, and for a picnic lunch.

Who likes picnic lunches? Everybody does. Not half her body. Yes, everybody. Everybody means me too, and I don't like them. Well, you're the only one. If you run the eat, I say eat in a dining room.

People don't eat enough to you. That's just for cows. Yeah, but it's a lot of fun. But kind of fun, is it? The sandwiches that should have salt and got no salt. The cake that shouldn't have salt is full of salt.

And in everything, walks around little snakes and different inspects. In six more. But good of all this talking. Sunday this thing comes. Your grandmother's coming here. And if you girls ain't, your father's going to be very mad.

But she was here last month. Why does she have to come on a Sunday? She couldn't get a day any other day. I don't think why not. She's got all week to come over. Why does she have to pick on a Sunday?

She can't go around on a street car by herself. English sign she can't read. And Sunday is the only day Uncle Morris has got the time to bring her in the car. Oh my goodness, is Uncle Morris coming too?

He makes me sick. Oh darn it. Well they are coming and there's no way out of it. Why can't they just come along on the picnic? He's got bum dogs. You shouldn't say bum dogs, mother.