Sometimes It is Rocket Science
““I know.” “He ate my hash browns when I had my back turned trying to flag down our waitress.”
”Sorry about that.” She grimaced as her brother shoved a forkful of dripping waffles into his mouth. At least they’d managed to avoid any media attention. The last thing she needed was Tab’s syrup-coated face splashed all over the society pages. She made a mental note to increase their annual donation to the juvenile diabetes charity. “I wanted to save them but decided it wasn’t worth the risk. I like my hands.”
“Where does he put it all?”
“That’s a question Dad and I tried to answer for years. I have several theories. Most of them involve biological thermodynamics, hormones, and once, after watching him eat two large Hawaiian pizzas, pocket dimensions.” “Now that’s a quantum physics theory I wouldn’t mind hearing you explain.” Robert held his breath when Tab licked the last drop of syrup off his fork. “Do you think he’s finished?”
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