"The Last Piece Of Chicken"

Last night, I killed three spiders, bare-handed none the less, opened a greasy jar of mayo, & a warped relish container. This morning's jelly jar resisted, but the countertop & I showed it who was boss! My arthritis is wrestling with my carpel tunnel syndrome now something terrible & I'm afraid to leave the house today because I can't stop throwin' up gang signs. I'm beginning to understand why old men have those nubs instead of fingers & hands. It's like a grenade exploded in their palms. A "wife & kids" grenade.

Walkin' down the street with my daughter this afternoon, we saw a huge chihuaua, the fiercest ankle biter this side of a midget wrestler. I snatched off my belt, Indiana Jones-style & did fearless battle with the ravenous beast, while my little girl yelped like a damsel in distress! If President Obama hadn't been sworn in today, I'd be making all sorts off "whipping it like Toby" jokes, but I have a little more class than that. But I will say, the next time that dog gets insubordinate with me, he'll be minus a foot. My socks took the brunt of the attack, but I protected my princess, & defended my territory, so all's well in the kingdom so far.

As per request by the Queen, I hauled box after box of meaningless mementos from the 8' high closet shelf to the garage. I'm 5' 11.5". My back feels like I've been gang raped by a band of lascivious amazonian women who've never smelled man flesh. No gatorade, no ice packs, no love.

Hunched & limpin', I came across my son who decided today is the day he tests his 5 year old machismo. I sat down with a grunt, & almost instantaneously, he slaps me across my face, hard like a pimp on a mission. Now as time slowed down around me, I could;
A) ignore it, & just shake my fist at the little bastard or
B) charge him like a rhino, with all intentions of crane kicking him to the carpet.

......................Crane kick it is.

Now, if you have a five year old at home, then you're aware of the lighting quick reflexes they possess. Before I stood fully erect, he jetted past me, laughs & giggles met my moans of back pain, thus pissin' me off even more. I turned to give chase, but all that remained of him was his dust, which I was forced to eat.

Imagine a polar bear trying to catch a mongoose, if the polar bear had a dislocated hip, & the mongoose was hopped up on PCP. After what must've looked like an episode of "Itchy & Scratchy", I gave up. Back to my chair.

I awoke from a brief nap to the smell of chicken frying the sound alone made my mouth water. All the kids were seated at the table with my wife, eyes bigger than Chris Tucker's, waiting on the bird to make it's way onto their plates. With a growl, I got up, hobbled into the bathroom to wash my pretzel-like hands, rubbed my spastic back & headed towards much needed nourishment.

I sat, & of course everyone was eating already. I poured what was left of the Kool-Aid, the syrupy under belly of the pitcher, into my plastic cup & reached for the pile of greasy grub that my palette desperately needed. Upon further inspection, I noticed something odd.

The big piece of chicken was gone.

Furious, I chewed my Kool-Aid syrup, threw my napkin down, & headed back to my chair.

Oh well, they'll all want presents for their birthday's. & my revenge shall be sweet.