A Little Bit of Everything and a Bucket of Chicken

It is quiet around here today – your typical Sunday afternoon.  I’ve had the most heinous lazy streaks lately that they are hard to break out of. I don’t get to moving until hours after waking. Maggie was being shy and wouldn’t look at the camera today. She’s been even lazier than I. It is contagious and we are just the most pitiful bunch you’ve seen. Last night, mom left a gigantic container of Helen’s macaroni and cheese on the back porch.  It was after eleven and she was worried she would wake me, but called anyway.  “Thank you for telling me!” I told her excitedly. I drove quickly over to get it and pig out.  It was delicious. I have to eat it in portions, though, or that old bulimia monster will rear its dangerous head. I was just talking to my father a moment ago. “You want something to eat tonight?” he asked as he does every Sunday evening. “I want a gigantic bucket of KFC chicken,” I said very jokingly. “I’m bringing you the biggest ass bucket they sell,” my father said laughing hysterically. “You and Maggie can sit up on the couch and eat your bucket full of chicken until you are bloated.” My father was still laughing when we got off the phone.  He loves to carry on like that. He also got kind of carried away for a moment there. Dad and Charlie have just quickly came by.  Maggie went absolutely nuts when see saw it was the two of them. Dad brought me a big box of Popeye’s chicken and biscui...

Source: The 4th Avenue Blues - June 2, 2013 Category: Mental Illness Authors: Andrew Quixote Source Type: blogs