Toast

I learned something today.  The blade side of the knife is better for putting butter on toast and cutting it, than the blunt side.  If nothing happening could be described as spectacular, then the results of my error were spectacular.
It is probably best you keep that to yourself though.  Just between you and me.  I have my reputation to uphold.  How can people think I have it all together if they know I do things like that?
I must admit, I am a butter person.  I would not say it is a problem.  Others may say that, but not me.  Surely the toast being a vehicle to balance the butter on is ok. I know it is not good for me, but I do not mind indulging in it occasionally.
It could be worse.  Just give me some time to think how please.  I have never had anyone exclaim that I was having an excessive amount of butter.  I just like to put it on thick.  I know I am not alone.
Normally Merril makes the toast but I was hungry, so I made it.  I did a Merril.  Cut it into railway lines.  I was glads it was not aeroplanes.  There is a good chance I would have forgotten the mouth was the destination and the aeroplane would have flown off into the distance.  Or I may have wondered why despite repeated attempts none of them would fly.  But I know the ants would have eaten them eventually.  So they were railway lines.  Sidings.  In goods yards.
I want to avoid revealing too much detail here and becoming too intimate but the secret is out that Merril normally has peanut paste on her toast and I have honey.   I did four pieces of toast.  Two were for me and two were for Merril.  Each piece of toast was cut into three railway lines.  Not aeroplanes.  Not soldiers.  But railway lines.

I knew if I had my toast and honey, I would grow big and strong.  I really thought that at 62 that would have already happened, but maybe I need to wait till I am 102.  That is only 40 years away.  But it is a fair number of sleeps.  It really seems too many, but I know I need to wait.  I have to wait for sure, but that does not mean I have to like it.

Still, that gives me a reason for getting up of an afternoon.  It is important I have something to look forward to.  Though I was told if I did not eat my crusts may hair would grow curly.  I wonder what I did or didn’t do to make it fall out altogether.  I guess it is too late to think, “well that won’t happen again.”  I know for sure it won’t happen again.

​I am over it now.  I am not hungry anymore.  The toast and honey did the trick.  For morning tea though I do feel sorta sorry for them Tiny Teddies.  Losing limbs and all and then their head.  But someone has to go, and I nominate them.  Good on them I reckon, as what they do, they do for the good of mankind.  That’s me.  I try to be kind and I’m a man.