I woke up early. I decided to eat a good breakfast that morning 'cause that's what "they" tell you ya oughtta do. Well, I ate, and it seemed to ignite my appetite. Like I had a tip on a famine or something!
I needed sweets. I ate sweets. Then, of course, we had to wash that down with something salty, right? Then it was pizza, then a candy bar, then I had to have a Pepsi, then a cupcake 'cause I read about a cupcake crawl that someone went on (then gotta have milk, right?) Then it was dinner time, had to sample all the menu items, then eat them. Then Pop was hungry, wanted French Toast, and of course that looked good so I made a little extra for me. And, of course, who doesn't want desserts. Yah, plural.
Thank the Lord that there were only 24 hours in that day, and the sun went down. I went to bed. I'd eaten enough to be considered a small neighborhood.
I was a little grateful that the bed didn't collapse.