5. The designs are edible?

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So, two little birdies told me I had to update, so I decided to stop being a lazy ass and do it.

Enjoy!

“Hey honey,” Uncle Tom called out a greeting as I trudged into the house. He was running around in all directions, looking for his best shoes, running one hand through his tussled, graying hair, and trying to fasten on a tie with the other, all at the same time.

“What are you doing?” I asked, half-amused, as he hopped around with one shoe on, using his comb to pull out the other one from the bottom of the living room couch (God only knows how it got there).

“There’s going to be a General Health Inspection at the diner today,” Uncle Tom said hurriedly, “If it was any other inspector, we would’ve passed the test with flying colors…but it’s Greg Marsden who’s coming.”

Greg Marsden was a name everyone in the food business in our town feared. He was notorious for taking lots of unnecessary and irrelevant details into account during his visits: starting from the clothes of the owner to his favorite baseball team. It was no wonder that Uncle Tom was going crazy; his diner means everything to him.

“Calm down. Take a few deep breaths,” I ordered him, and he obliged. “Look, your diner is the most awesomesauce one in the city, and you’re an amazing person yourself. You’ll do great during the test, no matter how hard Marsden looks for an excuse to make you look bad.”

“You should be a motivational speaker, you know?” Uncle Tom grinned, “That being said, you’re right; all I need to do is make a good impression. So I should get going. Be good, and even though I might be late, don’t throw a wild party.”

“I won’t,” I promised, “but I do have a friend coming over.”

“Well, I’m sure there’s enough pasta in the refrigerator for you and her.”

“Yeah,” I suddenly felt wary, “except it’s a him.”

Uncle Tom did a double take. “A guy?” his expression prompted me to explain everything, which I did fully.

“Ohhhh,” Uncle Tom wiggled his eyebrows, “Just don’t do anything you’ll regret, okay?”

“Oh no. Not you too,” I groaned.

“Well, I’m just saying,” he said in a teasing voice, “I know you’re young, and your feelings are strong---“

“Aren’t you going to be late for a Marsden inspection?” I interrupted loudly. It jolted him back to his senses. After pulling me into a quick hug, he sprinted to his car and was gone within seconds.

A glance at the clock told me I had twenty minutes before Adam arrived. I decided to straighten up the room which Uncle Tom had turned into a war zone in the last twenty minutes.

*

*

*

“This is the last one,” Adam announced, ruffling through the pages of his notebook. We’d been going through some calculus problems for an hour now. All the while, I’d been breathing through my mouth—which is an extremely unhygienic thing to do--- but I had to because every time I breathed through my nose, I caught a whiff of Adam’s cologne or deo or whatever he was wearing, and then I’d lose track of everything that was going on. 

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