Every Sunday morning like clockwork, the Little Woman (TLW) and I go to breakfast at a local diner. It is a favorite time of the week and I enjoy the solitude at 7:00 AM that there is because people are still sleeping off their hangovers in my neighborhood.
Usually, the diners are empty except for maybe one or two people, and every time I show up, I open with one or two of my favorite lines.
Waitress: "Good morning!"
"Good morning, can you squeeze us in?"
"Good morning, we have reservations but we came anyway!"
This is good because it does a number of things needed, it sets a friendly tone, and it keeps TLW's eye exercised from the eye rolling she does.
We get a look from the owner with a little bit of a grin and we get escorted to a booth. There is nothing better than Sunday morning breakfast at a diner, fresh coffee, juice, and eggs with sausage make for a dandy me, if you have bakery rye bread or sourdough bread, better yet still!
Last Sunday when I was paying the cashier for the meal, there was a couple who entered and the husband asked in a practically empty diner: "How long a wait?"
As we left the diner, TLW started to wave her hands and said: "I guess it must be a husband thing. YOU start with your jokes, and now this guy carries it on! MUST be a husband thing!
Yes, it must be. So, is dying before your wife. Why? Because we want to, that's why.