Whenever I call my Mother, it is always an adventure. I called her a few days ago. She was very talkative and started a steady stream of conversation right after I said “Hello”. Her monologue goes like this…

My stomach does not feel very good. Me -“Why?”. We went out for pizza last nite. I ate a meat lover’s pizza with extra cheese. It sat in my stomach like a big lump of dough. (Hmm, I thought it was exactly like a big lump of dough). At this point, I quickly interrupted and reminded that she is supposed to restrict wheat and dairy.

WEEELLL, she says. I want to do better. I want to go to Hardees (in my head I was astonished because she has previously complained bitterly about their food). So, I ask “Why Hardees?”. She says they have a new giant burger made from ‘Argus’ beef. (I think she confused Angus with my brother’s dog named Argus). Then, she continues about how it has a pound (actually 2/3 of a pound) of meat with triple cheese and bacon.

At this point she is interrupted by someone at her office, she says “What?”. Then, she says “I got to go because we are having a fire”. Click.

Just fact checking, there actually is a giant Hardees burger. Oh if you are wondering, the fire alarm was just a drill.