Lately, I feel like I’ve been in a bit of a fog. It probably doesn’t help that it was actually foggy today.
I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I’ve been feeling like an old fogey lately, spouting off ridiculous sayings that don’t make a lick of sense. Why, just this morning, I caught myself saying, “That fog’s so thick, it forgot clouds belong in the sky.”
I say, I say, what kind of fool talks like that?
Mornings have been particularly rough. I used to be an early bird, but lately, when the sun comes up, it’s more like cock-a-doodle-do-not.
Once I’m out of bed, though, I tend to feel a little peckish. Lately, I’ve had a hankering for cornbread. Nothing unusual about that, I say. A growing boy needs his breakfast.
In fact, I’ve been eating so much of it that we ran out of cornmeal. I added it to the grocery list, but my girlfriend complained that she couldn’t read my chicken scratch.
She’s also been complaining about the way I talk lately. Apparently, I’ve developed a Southern accent and a habit of repeating myself. Repeating myself, I say!
She’s been madder than a wet hen about it. Which is rather peculiar, considering she ain’t even wet. It’s foggy outside, not raining.
Speaking of wet, I thought a hot shower might help clear my head. Unfortunately, when I stepped out, the bathroom mirror was completely fogged up. Couldn’t see a thing.
Then I discovered somebody had replaced my shaving cream with coleslaw. I don’t know who’s responsible, but I suspect fowl play.
Not that I was planning to shave anyway. It’s become a real pain in the wattles lately.