I have a confession to make. I don't eat fast food if I can help it. But sometimes I can't help it. So my confession is that lately I can't help eating fast food. In the early morning hour, on our way to our fishing hole, we'll sneak in line at a McDonalds or Hardees drive thru to grab a quick breakfast sandwich.
Yum. I pull my ball cap down over my sun glasses, slouch down in my seat, and eat the sausage, cheese, and egg breakfast grilled cheese sandwich.
And then I brush the crumbs off my clothes, sit straighter in my seat, turn to look at Steve and announce for the umteenth time that's the last fast food sandwich I'm going to eat.
Steve rolls his eyes.
Anyhow, the other day, while waiting in that fast food line, we observed this dog and laughed. Was somebody busy playing in the yard when Cowboy announced, "Ya'll get in the truck now."
Black dog seemed more interested in what was coming out of the window.
Reminds me of someone I know well.
I see you fast food lady.
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