I Ate the Cookie First

I realized something about myself tonight. I haven’t changed much in the last 20 10 years. Sure, I have all kinds of grown-up bling, like kids and a house, but I’m still the same guy that used to mix a can of chili and a couple of diced hot dogs in a tortilla and think I was the Frugal Gourmet. It must have been the hot dogs. They’re phallic you know.

Tonight I made the boys dinner. I marinated some organic chicken breasts (no silicone) all day in a chopped garlic and peppercorn sauce and then cooked it in a pan with a few dashes of lemon juice. The side dishes were mashed potatoes and corn. Beverages were served to request.

The little circle in the upper right corner of each tray is a snicker-doodle. My wife made a batch of them on her way out the door. She was going to the gym and then to work and she likes to take freshly baked goods to the ingrate inmates that run the asylum. Lucky bastards.

She left us each a cookie.

For my supper I sang. Springsteen I believe. Then I dumped the rest of the chicken and corn on top of the potatoes, right in the mixing bowl and ate it with a spoon. I wanted badly to wash it down with a beer, but I was out. Instead I drank whisky and water through a straw, sat on the couch and watched a basketball game. This is the part that hasn’t changed in case you were wondering.

What? It’s not like I put ketchup on it.

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