Oatmeal Parfait

So, I’m sittin’ here at McDonald’s eatin’ breakfast w/ my step-grandson, Joey. His mom is such a drug fiend. She told him she put $30 in his book bag along w/ a Game Stop gift card for 20 (she says) bucks. Seems she scratched his “Black Ops ll” X-BOX game last night when she “fainted” and told him she would pay for another if I picked it up at the game store.

Well, we found $10 and the card in his book bag. He went back to his mother three times and she insisted she put all the cash in the book bag. The last time he returned to the car I said, “It’s your mama, Joey. We’re lucky we found what we found.”

“Yeah,” he said. “What if there’s not 20 bucks on the card?”

“We will just have to carry on.”

“Carry on.”

At McDonald’s, he ordered the “Big Breakfast w/ Hot Cakes”. Bacon instead of sausage. He bought an ice cream cone for dessert. He did this on the sly. I didn’t know till he showed up at the table w/ it.

“I thought you were goin’ to the bathroom?”

“I did.”

“They’re givin’ out cones for washin’ your hands?”

“They’re selling cones for a dollar six cents. And I have 10.”

“Cents?”

“Dollars.”

Oh, well, like mother like son. 

Sort of.

 

 

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About joefingas

I am a songwriter, poet, blues singer, and a boogie woogie piano player. I have a grandson but I have no children of my own. All my women have wised up and left me. I was a bum, a wino, a drug/alcohol counselor, a prevention/intervention specialist and a pretender. I have no more time to pretend.
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