Even though the old Popsicle is intent on raising me from bed at these crazy morning hours for illegitimate reasons, I still try to take care of the old codger because, well, because he's my dad after all and I love him.
This morning I made him breakfast at 4 a.m., but pickins were slim in the fridge, so I made do with what I had and concocted a favorite Southern classic for pop: fried bologna. And with that, a cake of last night's mashed potatoes and some multi-grain toast and black cherry jelly (Polaner All-Fruit actually, and some stuffy old Yankee broad just fainted). AND. . .on a paper plate no less with the good silver.
Must be time to go the the grocery store. Fairy, where are you little helper??
AWW, sorry was busy spreading fairy dust around, but I did manage to make it in Sunday :) Suprise baby!
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