Last night, in search of a midnight snack
I reached deep into my freezer and pulled out what I thought were corn dogs
After reading the directions, I tossed them in the microwave
and stood there waiting for the inevitable ping to let me know they were done.

I plated them and headed back to the comfort of the barcalounger
where I’d sit and watch The Daily Show and The Colbert Report
before calling it a night and let the sandman do his job.
Much to my surprise and, ensuing delight, these were not corn dogs at all.

Yes, they were on a stick and yes, they were the same shape and color
but upon first bite, something was noticeably different.
It appears that someone, somewhere had a revelation
and after tasting these morsels, so did I.

Instead of the hot dog I was expecting, there was the taste of breakfast sausage
Instead of the cornmeal, a pancake enveloped it.
I don’t know when I purchased them or how long they lingered in my freezer
but I love a good surprise and I’m just glad I didn’t slather them in mustard.

On another note, my kid brought home a kitten a couple of weeks ago.
He’s one of those orange tabby’s that closely resembles Morris the Cat.
He was given the name “Toby” and after a few shaky days he seems to be settling in
and is finally getting along with “Jude”, the elder cat who ruled the roost for years.

There’s just one thing I find a bit disconcerting though.
Toby likes to sit outside the shower in the morning and stare at me
as I go through The Three S’s.
He makes these little longing noises and I’m left to wonder if the cat is gay.

Not that there's anything wrong with that
Or, for that matter, anything else.

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