In my house, there two sets of meal times. One set is the usual, breakfast, lunch and dinner, and then there is #2 set. #2 set starts usually around midnight. No, TLW (The Little Woman) and me aren’t part of the #2 set. No, that belongs to #2 Son. Being how #2 is a vegetarian, he doesn’t eat with us. My philosophy is: If you don’t like what I cook, too bad. Either eat it or make your own. He makes his own. At 12 o’clock, midnight.
The dog, Happy, our dumb-ass cocker spaniel joins us up in our bedroom at night. She usually sleeps near the doorway, so it will be precarious to get up without using the lights to use the bathroom, and without stepping on her and hearing a loud “Yelp!”
At midnight, I am fast asleep. It is just about the time that Kim Bassinger has invited me in for a cup of coffee. (Sorry, Toots. Before Bassinger it was Cheryl Ladd, before Ladd it was Sophia Loren, AND Claudia Cardinale. I was younger, then.)
Suddenly, pain shoots through my whole body! TLW is poking me. “The dog! My dumb-ass dog wants to go downstairs! Why? Because Vegetarian Vito is downstairs making himself something to eat, and dumb-ass can smell it!
See you tomorrow night Kim, maybe we get beyond the coffee this time!
Please remember DD, and all those that need our hopes and prayers.
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