It is quite possible...

To eat too many eggs. IJS.

But c'MON! One stupid box of egg abuser's ='s 8 eggs, OR 240 calories. Not much, yeah? So that, coupled w/a handfull of chopped vegetables, and then a half-order of home fries...caps out at what, 350 calories. This is NOTHING, I tell you.

Ugh. I sat there with a full tum-tum, tired- AGAIN, praying for my first constitutional to get my motor revving.

Gonna have to cut that number of eggs in haaaalf, I'm thinking. That was a shit-ton of eggs.

Maybe revert to toast and jam.


My Dad's so cute. He brings over a big old bowl of creamy pasta salad to share for lunch. It contains Mayo. Chicken chunks. Elbow Mac. Peas. I didn't eat it as a kid, and it's isn't my first choice to eat as a big kid. He know this. He just likes to see if I'll make a face so he can yell at me and accuse me of either "not eating", being "Hollywood Thin", or anorexia. Truth was, I was chock-a-block full from those gut-busting eggs, AND I had made two delicious Chicky Boobs which were gonna be dinner fare later. This doesn't matter. My dad will eat a PBJ right before dinner. Did I mention he had some green jello for us to share too?

My salvation came in the offer "Did you want to see if your roommate wants some?"

YES!

I carefully piled their plates w/creamy pasta goodness, and frugally place a couple of forkfulls on mine.

Sneaky-pants, I am.

We watched a little Packer Slaughter while 'Bean and Dad frassed as only 'Beans and Dad's could-Their dialogue shouted between two rooms.

"So, Mr. P. Do you follow current events? Did you see that 6.0 Earthquake in the Gulf of Mexico?"

"Yeah, right about where they found that big cache of oil, right?"

"Exactly. So. ...do you subscribe to plate tectonics?"

I can't write this shit. My dad shot me a "is this a real question?" as I shouted back "Is that like, a subscription to Playboy?"

Ohhhh, we laugheded.