No Charlie Tonight...

CHICKEN MURDERER!

Charlie's oldest son was in town from Atlanta, so my father took over our Sunday night fast food tradition. It is a shame because I spent about an hour cleaning and the kitchen was sparkling and imbued with a shine. My trash can out at the road is full as well. Charlie, I had hoped, would have nothing to do and would lavish praise upon me.

"Well, I am proud of you as well," my father said putting in his two cents worth.

I was also hoping for another pot pie, but I got chicken strips instead. The pot pie last week was delicious. Scrumptious is a better word. My father is just not good at remembering those kinds of details. I was hungry anyway and ate it all none the less. Maggie got her chicken strip as well.