If you see Hammerhaid this holiday season, don’t be surprised if you mistake him for Old Claus.
What do you mean? Has he magically been transformed into a jolly ol’ elf?
“Naw, I’m not built that way. Maybe I’m a less grumpy ol’ troll??” H-haid said.
His beard is a touch whiter ... and he’s looking a little more fluffy … and don’t forget that blush on his cheeks.
“Where’s that Grecian Formula 9 when I need it and that &^%$ beard trimmer?” he grumped.
Well, anyway just blame it all on his fascination with muffins and hot coffee.
Huh?
It’s those cups of Columbia’s finest (coffee) that keeps his cheeks all like roses and his droll little mouth all drawn up like a bow.
“I cain’t help it if I am the only two-fisted coffee drinker left at work,” he groused. “I hate to see java poured down the drain.”
Get over it.
But he’s always been a coffee drinker or at least since high school when he learned the meaning of burning the midnight oil. That phrase has a different meaning these days. Midnight is when he wakes up from his news-induced nap.
Sometime he wakes up thinking of his latest addiction: muffins.
Hammerhaid just knew one type of muffin when he was a youngster. T-h-h-h-hat’s r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-right. Hot cornbread muffins with chow-chow pickles, a slice of onion and pinto or white beans. He still feeds that need occasionally at Cracker Barrel.
As for Betty Lou. She doesn’t do cornbread (it scratches her throat) and beans are too rude for her city-girl upbringing.
But eventually (everything takes him awhile) Hammerhaid discovered the other kind of muffins. His discovery was delayed by an encounter with a bran muffin. “Like eating sawdust,” he explained. Besides, he perceived them as being healthy.
But that was then before he tried, blueberry, chocolate chip, banana nut and an entire world of muffins.
Well anyway … This new addiction isn’t cheap. Good muffins aren’t all that easy to find and that’s when Betty Lou revealed a little secret over coffee at one of the higher-priced breakfast eateries.
“My muffins are better than that. They are bigger, fluffier and don’t crumble nearly as much,” she announced.
“Well, Betty Lou, you do make pretty good cornbread muffins and I appreciate that, but ....,” he started.
“You idiot, you have forgotten how I made all these delicious muffins and you wouldn’t even try them because they were quote, healthy, end quote. Remember????”
That “remember” had a threatening sound to it.
So Hammerhaid did what all smart husbands do. He faked it.
“Oh, I do remember that. That was in my foolish and young days,” he responded.
“Foolish, any way,” she grinned.
“Maybe you should bake some more?” he suggested.
She did and he was instantly converted. Now Hammerhaid’s singing a new tune:
“I like big muffins and I do not lie,” he hummed under his breath. “I like em big and fluffy, I cannot deny.”
T-t-t-t-t-that’s r-r-r-r-r-r-ight.
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