Tonight's Poet Corner: Carbs With Friends
Carbs With Friends by Belinda Roddie After Robby ate an entire pepperoni pizza all by himself, I was pretty worried that he would spill the half-digested contents all over my mother's afghan as it wound itself around his sluggish ankles, but instead, he found it more comforting to sleep off the intake of processed dairy, meat, and crust rather than expel it. So I was grateful for that. Three of us played cards while he snored - Chelsea making garlic bread in the kitchen, my sister stirring marinara into her tortellini. We dealt spades and aces that got a bit crinkled when the crumbs from our fingers stained in all the weirdest ways, and half the game was lost in the impending food coma that knocked all common sense from the left side of my noggin. I wanted to drink a beer at some point, but I simply forgot to do so - as if the carbonation wasn't beckoning to be imbibed, and the wheat could be spared from the onslaught of stomach acid for another night. B