As Charlie McChatterbox bagged my groceries the other day, he asked, "What's for dinner?" The bratwurst were for the following day, I replied; as for that evening, I had absolutely no idea. To which he responded, "I think someone needs to make you dinner." Well, I had no argument with that, although I was thinking, psh-yeah, in my dreams. Anyway, nice thought, Charlie. Promise me you will say that to your spouse one day.
He nattered nonstop all the way to my car, at one point talking about right brain versus left brain something or other (I know, right?). It was all quite entertaining. Some people just have the gift of gab—or it could be the Red Bull.
Speaking of Dad, he picked up his book proof on Friday. I had to take a picture of the momentous occasion.