Wanting this dinner to include something out of the ordinary, I decided to forgo the usual side dishes of chips and salad, instead opting for mandarin oranges and granola bars.
The sandwiches were a hit, yippee…the oranges and granola bars not so much. My husband’s only comment, “You’re way out on a limb here, you know that?”
I just smiled at him.
Now any of you who are familiar with men and boys, husbands and sons, will understand this. A sandwich for dinner without the side dishes only lasts so long. So it was about three hours after dinner when once again James departed for McDonalds to bring home the same damn meal they’d had three nights in a row so far.
You decide—in my opinion McDonalds is winning this battle. However, the next time one of my darling men says anything about having a meal which we’ve had in the last month, I plan to remind them of all the McDonalds bags filling the trash can. I doubt it will work, but I can always try.
August 6th
So what’s on the menu for this evening you ask? This was not a difficult decision, took no real time to prepare, and required only a little driving. I gave my hubby a choice. They could do McDonalds again, or he could spring for sushi at the newest restaurant in town. I love teriyaki beef and fried rice. At dinner, I informed my hubby and son they were now in charge of all the grocery shopping and cooking.
As for me, I'm retired, thank you very much!!
The End
Well, not really…Book 2 of This Author’s Life, bOYs, tOYs, and jOYs is coming soon.
Preview the next book
bOYs, tOYs, and jOYs
This Author’s Life, Book 2
Chapter 1
My Big, Fat Tongue
“Ouch!”
Damn, that hurt. I didn't taste blood, so maybe it wasn't as bad as it felt. Lifting a napkin to my lips, I stuck out my tongue and pressed it softly to the cloth. “Good Lord, that's a lot of blood.” Holding the napkin to my tongue, I walked into the bathroom, flipped on the light switch and looked at the damage in the mirror. Damn, I have a hole in my tongue; it looks like my teeth went right through the thing.
As I headed to the kitchen for some ice, I wondered if they stitched tongues and decided no matter what, I wasn't going to the hospital. Grabbing the ice tray I ditched the bloody napkin for a paper towel, wrapped the ice into the middle and pressed it to my tongue. Remembering my first aid class I tried to apply pressure to stop the bleeding. Yep, right. I don't think the pressure technique is for tongues.
I sat down on the couch, ice pressed as firmly as it would go to the hole in my tongue, feet lazily stretched on the ottoman, and eyes looking at the plate of food I'd only just started to eat, when my youngest daughter Renae walked through the door.
“Hi Mom.”
“Hs,” I mumbled around the wad of blood-soaked paper towel in my mouth.
“What are you doing?” Renae looked at me a little funny.
“Thry ing ta sop…”
“Mom, try taking the rag outta your mouth.”
Such a wonderful, smart daughter I have. Removing the pressure from my tongue, I answered quickly. “I'm trying to stop the bleeding.” Quick as could be, I pressed the ice to my tongue once again.
“Why is your tongue bleeding?”
Instead of risking my hard won effort to stop the bleeding, to answer a question that usually only has one, I pointed to the plate of food.
Renae looked at the plate, “No thanks, I'm not hungry.” Sitting in the chair opposite me, she looked at me expectantly, “So why is your tongue bleeding?”
“I bt…”
“Mom, the rag.”
Oh for pity sakes. “I bit it.”
“Ouch.”
Wow, such sympathy.
Renae continued. “How?”
“With my teeth.”
“No kidding, but how.”
“Trying to eat.”
Renae gave me a look of concern. As if I was a child who hasn't learned to chew food yet.
“Don't give me that look,” I admonished. “It's because I'm trying to train the left side of my mouth to chew.”
“What?”
“The left side of my mouth.”
“Why does the left side of your mouth need training?”
“Because I never chew on the left side. It has to do with being right handed and right side dominant.”
“Right.”
Renae thinks I have marbles for brains. I can tell by that look. “It's simple really,” I tried to explain. “Because I always chew on the right side of my mouth, my tongue is skinnier on that side.”
“Really?”
“Yes, and because it gets more exercise it doesn’t get in the way when I eat. Because I never use the left side, it’s fatter.”
Now she's laughing at me.
“Dammit, it's true.” I stuck my tongue out so she could see for herself how fat the left side was. “See. Fat.”
“Mom, it’s called swelling. You've bitten a hole in your tongue, so of course it's going to swell.”
“It was fat before I bit it. It's the lazy side of my tongue, and it didn't even know enough to get outta the way of my damn teeth. Serves it right, getting bit.”
“Now you're just being silly.”
“No. I'm in pain. My tongue is bleeding and I'm hungry. Now I'm going to have to chew on the right side again, and my lazy left side is going to think it won the war and go back to being a couch potato.”
“Why is it so important that you chew on both sides of your mouth? Did you read an article at the doctor’s office or something?”
“No, I didn't read an article. The doctor said since I’ve done so well losing weight, I might try adding a little more exercise to my routine.”
“And you decided to start with your fat tongue?”
“Hey, only the left side is fat.”
“Right. So what did the doctor think of this plan?”
“I didn’t tell her. I just said I’d come up with a plan to get more exercise.”
Reaching for my plate of food, Renae picked up the fork, “Looks good.”
As I watched her eat my dinner, I stuck the ice back on my tongue and applied pressure. Wow, tongues bleed a lot.
Note from Michelle Hoppe
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About Michelle Hoppe
Author Michelle Hoppe first discovered a love for writing in a high school creative writing class, and has been creating romantic comedy, chic lit, paranormal, and contemporary stories even since. Michelle writes sexy stories with an edge, and humorous stories about life as a mother and grandmother. Michelle lives in a quiet little town in WA State, USA. With beautiful beaches, stately mountains, an active volcano, and an abundance of nature, it is an ideal location to write her novels, poetry, and stories.
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The jOYs of Life Page 10
