Monday, October 2, 2017

October 2, 2017

Dear Diary,

Woke up this morning to the terrible news about Las Vegas. I can understand why so many people are upset. I was, too, but that's still no excuse for Bessie to be late with my French toast. I've spoken to her numerous times about how I like my French toast with maple syrup on the side, but without the powdered sugar on top. I realize that most Americans like syrup poured over their French toast and powdered sugar sprinkled on top, but I've always been a "dipper," otherwise the bread gets all soggy and sticks to my dentures.

Also, I've repeatedly told her that even with my CPAP mask, I can still accidentally inhale the powdered sugar, which results in some pretty intense coughing fits. Last time I sucked down some powdered sugar all the way into my lungs and ended up with sweet-tasting sputum repeating on me for the next two weeks. It wasn't all that bad until an infection set in, which left me conflicted: On the one hand, Dr. Morell had to load me up on antibiotics; on the other, it was sort of like coughing up gooey candy.

Another thing Bessie does is lay out four slices of French toast across the plate with a sprig of parsley next to the strawberry.  What am I supposed to do with that? Nobody eats parsley, except for maybe Ethiopians, but that's only because they're always starving and eat anything you put in front of them. Hell, they'll eat their shoes if you pour enough maple syrup on them. Ethiopians are definitely not "dippers."

I have no idea how much parsley costs and I'm assuming that little green leafy thing really is parsley. Knowing Bessie, she probably picked a dandelion off the sidewalk and cut it up into little pieces. She's sneaky like that. Says she's buying parsley and then pockets the money to buy more voodoo dolls or whatever it is she keeps locked up in her room over the garage.

I guess I should be grateful that she doesn't break the yolks on the fried eggs. I like poking them and watching the yellow stuff run out while singing, "and up from the ground come a bubblin' crude."

The kids don't understand that. I do. I'm very empathetic.

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