Jun 272012

Or: Breakfast at Tom’s Diner


I wanted a real breakfast, and it was all I could think about last night at work. So when Henry and Chooch came to pick me up last night, I informed Chooch that he and I would be going to Tom’s Diner the next morning so mommy could stuff her nutrition-deprived face with nutritional eggs covered in grease, grease, cheese, and grease. He immediately protested — what a sonofabitch.

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He never wants to do anything I want to do!!

But by morning, I was able to gently coax him into putting on his shoes and walking the several short blocks to Tom’s. On the way there, he randomly posited, “What if there were Chooch seeds, and when you planted them, a bunch of Chooches were born?” At first, my response was, “I would scream and run” but then some of my friends pointed out later that my pedometer wouldn cheat me out of steps if I ran, so I guess I would maniacally march — straight to the BANK after I sold those newborn bitches!


Chooch reads everything now. Signs, newspapers, magazines, Henry’s Craigslist ads for “Clean Buxom Ginger Wanted For Discreet Playdates,” and oh yeah — books too. At Tom’s he read aloud the “Watch Your Step” sign that was behind me and of course I half-assedly praised him while shoveling my maw with a plate of oily A.M. food fare that I really couldn’t even taste but my body was screaming CARBS!!!!!!! with sheer, shoulder-shimmying ecstacy.

And then Chooch burped. Loudly and with great gusto. I reprimended him and said, “I’m going to tell daddy!” and I don’t know why I always resort to that because Lord knows Henry ain’t no threat, ya’ll.

“Don’t you dare,” Chooch warned. And then, in this deep and low tone pregnant with menace, he growled, “Watch your step.”


There was some construction worker sitting a few booths over that was basically choking on his food trying not to laugh out loud at our exchange.


After breakfast, Chooch bought me a revolver keychain out of one of the gumball machines!

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Now the other one we use as a Christmas tree ornament will have a  mate. Oh my god, it’s practically a set!


On the way home, we saw Purple Pants, who was not wearing her purple pants but was wearing a red sweatshirt that I have never seen her wear before! Chooch managed to get her to bark a terse “hello” and you would have thought some asshole politician just kissed his head, he was so excited.

Say it don't spray it.

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