My Dad did it again.
I thought he couldn't possibly beat the full out frozen waffle/mayo episode. But he did.
I watched him from my place at the counter.
I was there to make muffins, not eat the batter. Though if my father wages his counter-blog, I'm sure he'll say the muffins didn't look that well baked.
But, this is still my blog. However unread and overfed I am.
So there he was.
He had a line up of crackers and he was putting margarine on each one.
Now granted, this doesn't sound that weird.
But let me explain:
Only minutes earlier he was ranting about juicing.
He has this hefty bag of carrots and celery just waiting to be juiced tomorrow morning. He even has them front and center in the fridge for an eager start.
The scary part is his disassociation with his "tomorrow self." And the scariest part is- I hardly saw my dad- I was so busy seeing myself.
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