Waste Management

I don’t ask for much. Really, I don’t. Sheets nice and straightened. No toenail clippings in bed. An occasional Snickers. I am pretty easy. Really.

So, on occasion, I like to drink a Sierra Mist Cranberry Splash. They only make it during the holidays, so Hot Mom secured the final two 12-packs left in the grocery store. She tells me she wrestled them away from a wheelchair-bound octogenarian, but I digress. I love them and I crave them.

Buddy also loves them. He loves them a lot.

After a long day at the office this past week, I arrived home exhausted and awaited the delicious meal that Hot Mom was preparing. In my state of exhaustion, I asked Buddy if he would go get me a Sierra Mist for my dinner. I told him to bring two, so that he and Pie could share one.

Well…Bud came back with two sodas. A Sierra Mist and a Diet Rite (only Hot Mom can choke down that crap).

“Bud,” I said, “don’t you want one, too?”

He looked at me like I was crazy and then he looked at his mom almost to cry.

“This IS mine.”

“Um, okay, well, where is mine?”

He again looked to Hot Mom imploring her to back him up.

“Mom, I don’t want waste one on Dad.”

“Waste one?”

“Yeah, we only got just a few and I don’t wanna waste one on you.”

“Waste one?”

After much crying and gnashing of teeth, Hot Mom snuck Cool Dad a Sierra Mist.

What a waste!