I know what you're thinking: Like, how hard could it be?
Two, maybe three times a week you throw out a lazy pun and a picture of your kids, or a couple sentences of gratuitous sexual innuendo that might be considered "edgy" in the hopelessly moribund pages of a daily newspaper, but which by Internet standards have about as much edge as your grocery list. Which you are not above using as source material.
Sounds easy, right? But are you going to make waffles? Think carefully before answering. Because this is not a simple question. This is only the opening query in what will blossom into a full-scale deposition conducted by the 16-year-old who just moved himself into your office with the single-mindedness of F. Lee Bailey trying to get to the bottom of -- something.
Go ahead, if you think it's so easy. Finish your sentence. Complete a thought. Try to write a headline that doesn't have the word "waffle" in it, which F. Teen Bailey has just used six times in the same sentence to impugn your parenting, grocery shopping and time management skills.
He is relentless when it comes to breakfast.
"This is why I have to interrupt you 3,000 times because the first 2,999 times you don't get anything done," Mr. Bailey says. "Why can't you make waffles? Why didn't you just buy cereal at the grocery store? Why did you buy the stuff to make waffles if you're not going to make waffles?"
You could try arguing. You could try getting him to leave your office. But the fastest way to the bottom of the next sentence is through the kitchen. Yeah, you are going to make the waffles. It's just a matter of time. Call it a compromise, call it capitulation. Call it whatever you want. And then pour syrup all over the top of it.
My point is this: Someone is going to have to take over the ahem, daily operations here while I am doing research for my forthcoming waffle, I mean screenplay: It opens in a Parisian cafe where a young man is attempting to order waffles.
My fear is that my guest editor will spend the two weeks that I am gone giving you everything you actually want in a blog: Useful advice, oversharing, kittens wearing hats. Effortlessly correct pronouns in the objective case. I'll come back and you won't even have missed me. Whom or who might this be, you ask? Who or whom can possibly fill your shoes? And how long before kittens?
I'll let you know as soon as she agrees
not to post the road trip photos. Now, who wants waffles?