Breakfast with Miss America 2007 and then lunch with your lovely wife to whom you are completely and totally devoted. And would never infect with the Ebola virus.

"How much greater could one guys life get?", you might ask yourself. Well, just let me tell you.

The eggs were terrible, just totally and completely terrible. Now don't be confused. The cold nastyass eggs were not and should not be considered a refection on Miss Nelson. She didn't cook them, heck she was probably even smart enough not to eat them. See... I could have taken three steps to the right had an omelette cooked to order... with all the good stuff, cheese, bacon, ham, tomato, onion, the list goes on and on.. but I have issues. I have absolutely no ability to wait in line. No patience, none, nada, never. I hate amusement parks or anywhere you are forced to stand in line mindlessly, like a sheep waiting for slaughter.

Back to Miss America... She was speaking at a breakfast I was attending. She seems to be a very  nice young lady. She is the second Miss America I have had the opportunity to meet. The first was Miss Nelson's immediate predecessor Jennifer Berry Miss America 2006. I met Miss Berry at a luncheon I attend during her reign or "year of service" (or something like that) as it is called nowadays. She was the guest speaker and I even had a chance to get a picture with her.

I didn't ask Miss Nelson to pose with me for a picture. Why?...  No crown. It's not like I think I'm too good to have my picture taken with a girl with no crown. It's just.... just not the same.

Here's what I'm talking about... Look at the picture of me and Miss Berry... What do you see? Yep... Old, fat, bald guy wearing a really goofy grin because he is happy to be standing next to a Miss America even if she is wearing a forced smile. You don't need to know the back story of how or why their worlds collided. The picture tells the entire story and it is pretty normal.

Now let's shift to today yesterday last Wednesday . Miss Nelson is not "reigning" any longer and believe it or not Miss Americas turn back into normal 22 year old girls after their reign. No more big hair, no more being overdressed for 90% of the functions you are "forced" to attend. They simply revert back to being beautiful, intelligent young ladies. As you can see from the photos on the left during  her reign Miss Nelson had that regal "star" look, big hair, lots of professionally applied makeup, the whole package. Not a bad thing just not normal like someone you would see at the bank or picking up clothes at the cleaners. Now below that one is a black and white photo taken today yesterday  last Wednesday by the photographer from the Lawton Constitution. A very different Miss Nelson. Not bad or worse... just different.... normal. In fact, I think I like the "Normal" version better. But.... take the normal version and mentally put her beside me in a photo. Now you have...Old, fat, bald guy with goofy grin next to pretty young lady with forced smile. If it's not a family photo then it's just a little weird looking and begs for an explanation.

So, lets break it down to it's simplest form;

Old, fat, bald guy with goofy grin + pretty young girl that is not his daughter with forced smile, big hair and tons of makeup + Crown = Pretty normal, not weird or "uncomfortable looking".

Old, fat, bald guy with goofy grin + pretty young girl that is not his daughter with forced smile, normal hair and makeup = a scene that is just ick, ick, yuck, icky, eeewwww, and just really uncomfortable looking in an "Amber Alert" kind of way.

See the difference the crown makes?

So for those "unselfish" reasons I didn't ask her to pose for a picture... either that or it may have been the fact that I forgot to pick the camera up on the way out of the house that morning.... It makes me feel better to believe it was "unselfishness". Either way both girls seem to be really nice young ladies.

So now we move on to lunch. I let Dream Girl pick where we would eat because she was starting to get her appetite back after suffering from some sickness other than Ebola with which I did not infect her. Is that part clear? I am not responsible for causing DG to become ill. In fact I did everything I could to protect her when I got well enough to stand and patrol the house for germs while wearing the Lysol holster. Personally I think she caught whatever it was from someone at the store on Sunday. I wasn't there to protect her as I was still in the final throws of my own Ebola infection. As long as that is clear and there are no more accusations that I infected her with some plague or pestilence we can move on.

DG wanted a cheeseburger from The Big Chef, so Big Chef it was... That's the kind of guy I am... spare no expense to please the woman I love. We placed our order and joked with our waitress. They have the greatest staff. They are all a little like Flo from Mel's Diner. They are always saying something that cracks me up. Yesterday we overheard an older gentleman sitting at the counter ask the waitress if his lunch came with bread of some kind. Her replay was, "Of course it does honey, your old, you need the fiber." (God, please let me have a job someday where I can talk to people like that.)

Our meals arrive and DG asks me to pass the mustard for her burger. They provide the mustard and catsup on each table in those plastic squirt bottles. I handed her the mustard and as she began shaking the mustard bottle upside down in order to persuade the mustard to travel toward the squirty end, I slid an empty saucer toward her and said, "Here, squirt the mustard booger into this."

All I was trying to do was to help her out. Who want's that hard dark yellow mustard booger on their cheeseburger. Not me.... and I'm sure not my little "Monkett" either. But you would have thought I had screamed the "F" word or a racial epithet. The color drained from her face, she took a halting breath and the corner of her left eye began to twitch uncontrollably. The same exact response I get if I ask a question like, "Is this a boil on my back?" or "Are those rabbit intestines on the back porch?"

There are three definitions of booger that I can find.

1. Informal. Any person or thing: That shark was a mean-looking booger.
2. Slang. A piece of dried mucus in or from the nose.
3. Slang. An item that is unnamed or unnameable

I was using number three. There is no name for a mustard booger, that I know of, other than mustard booger. It's not like I said, "Excuse me darling is there a booger hanging out of my nose?"

With pasty face and twitching eye DG said, "Do not say that while we are eating." So of course I spent the rest of the meal trying with all my might not to say booger. I think she may be right, I may very well suffer from Tourette's Syndrome. It seemed the harder I tried, the harder it was not to just lean in real close and say "Booger, booger, booger, booger" and when I would finally stifle the urge I would then laugh crazily to myself. The mental picture of me leaning in and saying it would just crack me up... tears were just about to pop loose.... Just think "booger, booger, booger, booger" followed by maniacal laughter and the need to yell GOAT really loudly for some unknown reason.

It is a good thing that Miss America didn't have a Sling Blade-like affection for mustard with her biscuits or breakfast could have turned out really, really badly.