I'm out of town again. I like home. But this place is not so much different from home. I'm sitting in a restaurant...just like one at home. Deana says we shouldn't eat at a restaurant when we are away from home if we have the same restaurant at home. She's not with me so I went to one of my favorite places.
It was not a fastfood place, by the way. I'm not against them, though. I could eat a sausage biscuit and drink a cup of coffee for breakfast everyday. And I would, too, if the doctor would double my cholesterol medicine dosage!
My favorite place to eat is...I don't really have a favorite place. Not even a favorite food. I love mexican food. I could eat it all the time. If it's mexican I like it. Maybe a chimichanga is my favorite food.
But tonight I am eating a very good meal of chipotle chicken, vegatable medley, and mashed potatoes. Iced tea. Chips and enchilada salsa. Cinnabon cheesecake. At a restaurant just like the one at home.
I've been away since Monday but I'm feeling at home. Not really. Just call me Dorothy. There's no place like home.
But I've learned that most places are pretty much like home. During my chips and salsa and young couple comes and he's carrying a little girl. She's dressed in a green one-piece jumper. She's probably not more than a year old. Her daddy loves her and her mommy.
Just like I love my boys and Deana. God is good.
Oh, the music playing in the background? "Down on Main Street."
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