The Robinson’s were kind enough to deck our family out with shirts with this on them.
And I guess it was kind of a dig, but they’re not really the type to make digs like that, which makes it that much more special of a dig.
Anyway, I wore the shirt yesterday. And I was planning on buying 2 dozen donuts on the way to work. But I got a late start, chit chatting with our nanny and Sal and getting her family tickets to go see Avenue Q and explaining why it wouldn’t be appropriate for my kid to go see this play with muppets, yet it was okay for her kids to go. Double standards and all.
So I thought I could grab a donut at lunch, or a snickerdoodle, or at least a couple cookies from the catered lunch at the interview function I was set to rebel against my shirt.
I got distracted at lunch, figuring out how much more food I could get into the to-go box vs. a plate. But it was chicken saag…with extra carne asada fajitas on the side under the naan.
And then the interview thing – there were no cookies left.
And when 5 o’clock rolled around and Brian was getting a coffee I looked at the donuts behind the glass and I just kept on venting about work instead of throwing down some change for the donut.
So the shirt kind of worked in a reverse negative backwards kind of way. We’ll see if it still works post fat dunking.