“I keep telling y'all: don't text me! I need noise to cut through the noise that is my life after retirement from the Army.”
Gladys Jubilee Trent smiled at her son, retired Sgt. Vincent Trent, patiently explaining once again to younger cousins that a call was still the appropriate way to reach him because his responsibilities, even more so than his greater age, didn't let him be looking at the phone all day.
“V.T. would be so proud of you,” she said to Sgt. Trent after he finally got off the phone. “About a dozen more times of you calling them back and not texting, and they'll get it.”
“I am a Trent, so I'm just going to say this: we are some stubborn people,” he said. “They were just so bent on convincing me why texting is so much better and faster and more expressive because 'we have all these emojis' … but I live with Melissa, Melvin, Vanna, Velma, Milton, and Gracie, with nephews Ton and Vertran hanging out, too. Who even has time for an emoji?”
“Who even needs one?” Mrs. Jubilee Trent said as Mrs. Melissa Trent, the sergeant's wife, came across the yard with their three youngest children in tow and all of them trying to convince her that a healthy diet could be based on fried chicken.
“Because wheat comes from grass, and grass is vegetables, and oil comes from seeds, and seeds come from fruits and vegetables – so automatically, putting chicken in flour and frying it has got to be healthy,” nine-year-old Milton said.
“Now that we understand the science, it all makes sense,” eleven-year-old Velma, “and hot fried chicken adds peppers, and peppers are fruits that hang out with veggies, so, even better.”
“Ain't it the truth, Velma, ain't it the truth,” eight-year-old Gracie said.
“I have an even better idea,” Mrs. Trent said. “Let me fry some Brussels sprouts real quick and make it even healthier!”
“Uh, no,” Gracie said while Milton said “Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!”
“Nope,” Velma said, “because, protein, Mom.”
“Yeah, protein!” Milton and Gracie said.
Mrs. Jubilee Trent cracked up as Sgt. Trent shook his head.
“Definitely no need for emojis!” she said.
“Nope,” Sgt. Trent said.
“Wait until they discover hog heads make cheese, son,” she said, and cracked up again as he went, “Ewwww – no!”