Enough Breast

Chicken Parm Dinner

Hello to all,

It was a typical Friday night in a pizza restaurant, a little over thirty-two years ago. As the evening drew to a close, we received an order for two chicken dinners. Tammy worked in the back room and at the chicken fryer, but being new, I kept half an eye on her work. She dropped two legs, two thighs, two wings, and it looked like one breast. “I only saw one breast go into the basket. Verify you count!” barked the hurried manager.

I helped customers and prepared pizzas until the cleanup began. Ron came in to pick up Tammy, and I called out, “Tammy, your father is here.”

A few moments later, she emerged from the back kitchen with her meal for the night and announced proudly, “I told you I had enough breasts.”

The thirty-four-year-old manager stared at the old man waiting for his daughter. His eyes grew large at his daughter’s comment. I came up with a classy retort I could muster, “I, um, I.” What could I say when a girl I barely knew announced she had enough breasts in front of her father?

She sat down with her dad and clarified, “I thought I had enough chicken in the basket before dropping it, but I dropped an extra one to be sure.”

She looked at her dad, and then at me. Only then did she realize what she said and the possible ramifications of it. We have been married for thirty-one years, and she still reminds me regularly, “I have enough breast!”

Grace to all,

Danny Mac