She followed him into the kitchen, but paused at the threshold. She'd already done plenty of digging through cabinets. It only yielded frustration. Let him figure that out for himself, she figured. So she leaned against the doorframe, folding her arms across her chest.
"What's a MASH unit?" she asked.
Inexplicably, she suddenly had the mental image of a bunch of guys with potato mashers on their feet, stomping around in a vat of tubers like vintners crushing grapes for wine.
It probably wasn't anything like that. But it was fucking funny to think about.
Anyway, pretty much all Sam knew about the army could be boiled down to the fact that Lake Forest had been somewhat close to an active fort, which meant a lot of kids moved in then moved out two years later. No one wanted to be friends with a fort kid. Unless it was the choice between a fort kid and Sam. Then everyone wanted to be friends with a fort kid.
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"What's a MASH unit?" she asked.
Inexplicably, she suddenly had the mental image of a bunch of guys with potato mashers on their feet, stomping around in a vat of tubers like vintners crushing grapes for wine.
It probably wasn't anything like that. But it was fucking funny to think about.
Anyway, pretty much all Sam knew about the army could be boiled down to the fact that Lake Forest had been somewhat close to an active fort, which meant a lot of kids moved in then moved out two years later. No one wanted to be friends with a fort kid. Unless it was the choice between a fort kid and Sam. Then everyone wanted to be friends with a fort kid.