When I was perhaps thirteen years old, Mom took most (all?) of her children to Preston for whomever’s doctor’s appointment. Though Preston was – and still is – a small town, Preston had a primary care physician who operated a clinic for almost sixty years, which was much more convenient than Clinton or Dubuque.
While waiting, Mom gave me some cash and asked me to walk to the grocery story to pick up ground beef. Glad to have something to do rather than just sit and be bored, I headed out. After walking a block, I realized What the hell is ground beef?
I walked back to the doctor’s office and asked Mom, who smiled and said hamburger. Ah ….. and now I could complete my mission!
