Our kitchen this morning. Oldest son to Dad/Melanoma Man: "Dad will you be the egg chef this morning?"
Melanoma Man, in his element in the kitchen, loves such requests. He knows that the Laundry Thief's version of scrambled eggs just don't hold a candle to his. Laundry Thief has NOT stolen the kitchen from him.
"Here are your potato chips!" Melanoma Man exclaims proudly.
"Dad, did you mean to say potato chips?"
A cloud of worry comes over Melanoma Man's face. It's his third word mix-up in the last day. An Ivy League educated English literature major and former litigator, where are the words going?