While sitting in a family restaurant trying to convince Tator Tot that sliding under the table and onto the sticky, grimy wasteland he is calling "my house" is not the best way to endear yourself to your mother and may actually jeopardize the dessert course, I overheard this:
You've put on weight too, not 50 lbs, but some...
The stooped old lady in the next booth responsible for these words to her waitress was fork deep in a gigantuan blob of coconut cream pie with a side of orange ice cream (orange? really?).
When the waitress returned looking a little sheepish, certain I could not have heard the original comment correctly, I surreptitiously turned my ear in their direction hoping to snatch more delicious morsels that would either confirm or contradict what I had heard.
I'm starting a diet tomorrow, our chastised waitress says.
But why, honey?, asks little old lady through a mouthful of spray whipped cream.
You said I'd gained weight.
Oh, no!... Just mostly in your face...
Posts
1 comment:
Mortified!
Post a Comment