If only we hadn’t cut back on the funding for the non-potable water access, we wouldn’t have to worry about putting out Uncle Frank’s Christmas Dinner fire like last year.  Mom talks in hushed tones whenever Frank enters the room informing the family of his culinary experiments for this year.  “Just remember,” she whispers to us kids, “there’s an extinguisher under the sink, in the pantry, and garage.”  She made us all remember the fire department’s number weeks in advance.  No one remembers who gave Frank authority over everything edible for the Yuletide gathering.  No one seems to care either.  They just nod as he recites menu items while sipping Grandpa’s brandy.