I Could Get Used to You

The other night, we hit my favorite restaurant – seafood platter piled high with fried shrimp, oysters, fish, and crab. Shit, I ate it so fast I almost forgot about my baked potato and the onion rings – icing on the cake. Later in the evening, in from the oppressive July heat, we sat in my den, full and lazy, like some stodgy married couple set in our ways. I was busily flicking through all the channels endlessly with the remote until you complained and told me to pick a channel so we could actually watch TV. It was uncannily like the many nights I would spend with my family as a child with mom telling dad the same thing. "Johnny, find a channel and stop," she would complain. My father would grunt and tune it to the weather channel as my mother sighed. I did the same thing the other night and you sighed as well.

I could get used to you…