Wednesday, October 7, 2015

On The Prowl

Why are you looking at me like this is your breakfast? This isn't your breakfast. You've already had your breakfast. This is my breakfast. Capiche? My breakfast. Are we clear on that?

No? Alright. Allow me to clarify. The ding of the toaster means Mommy's breakfast. Mommy's. Not Dusty's. Mine. Not yours. Mine. Oh, fine. Here's a little taste. But that's all I'm giving you, beggar boy. Back off. Hit the road, you.

More? You want more? Sheesh. Absolutely not. Don't whine. One more taste and that's it. I mean it this time. You heard me. Look. All gone. Wait, here's a crumb...

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