I was at Waffle House for my Father's Day Eve dinner with the baby girl. She picked the place. We sat at the counter. She swung her feet and played with the jukebox. Nothing but smiles. I checked in to Foursquare while I was waiting for scattered, smothered, and covered to arrive.
It felt quiet and personal until the klaxon sounded and the confetti began to fall from the ceiling. I unwittingly had assumed the mayorship of the Waffle House on Haywood Road. Facebook and Twitter contacts were alerted of my virtual windfall.
What can I say? I lead a charmed life.