When mom began to create the morning, it being unformed and void, with
darkness in the kitchen and a wind from someone’s butt (will u excuse
urself pls?) sweeping thru teh kitchen__Mom said, “Let there be light”
and someone hit the switch. Mom saw that the light was good, although it
hurt her eyes a bit. And then Mom said “Let there be coffee!” And there
was. And it was good.
Mom called the light “Day”, when we do “day” things, and the darkness She called “Night” when the kids sleep (and all is peacefulness.)
And there was evening and there was morning, and dammit if they just don’t keep coming. Over and over.
Mom said, “Let there be an expanse in the midst of the kitchen that we shall call ‘The Table'” We shall sit at it and partake. And the new expanse created by partaking of the goods of “The Table” shall be called “My ass.”
Don’t ask me if this is the first or second day, as they all blend together.
And it came that some other stuff happened, and the inhabitants of “The Kitchen” (being small and constantly hungry) demanded sustenance.
And Mom said “Let there be frozen waffles.” But when inspected, proved unworthy, having the smell and consistency of an old sponge.
There was weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth.
And Mom said “I shall make pancakes!” and there was rejoicing and hosannas, the land flowed with milk and imitation butter flavored syrup.
– From the holy book of “Yo Mamma.”, November 14, 2009