“I’ll just have toast and coffee,”   Cliff Murray said when Molly Whiteside was taking their orders one morning after Christmas at Mabel’s Grill.

Molly almost dropped her order pad. “No bacon and eggs? No pancakes and maple syrup?” she wondered.

“No, I ate too much over Christmas and I have to lose weight,” Cliff admitted sheepishly.

“No self control, huh?” Dave Winston wondered.

“Well all the wives, and a few of the husbands, cooked all these good- looking – and tasting – desserts for all of the Christmas parties and a guy just doesn’t want to insult them by refusing to try them,” Cliff said.

“Well I’ll have bacon and eggs and toast – and don’t forget that good strawberry jam Mabel makes,” said George Mackenzie,

“Mabel will thank you,” Molly said. “Too many people are eating less since Christmas and it’s hard to pay the cost of running this place.”

After Dave ordered his normal breakfast, Molly headed back to the kitchen.

“I wish I had your self-control,” Dave said to Cliff. “I’ll have to put in a couple more hours in the hog barn for a while to wear off the Christmas weight.”

“I’m afraid feeding the cattle indoors isn’t going to do it for me,” George said guiltily. “I’ve got a doctor who’s having me weigh myself every day and write it down on this sheet she gave me and when my wife sees how much my weight has gone up over the holidays, she’ll blow a gasket!”

“But it didn’t keep you from ordering  bacon and eggs and toast with strawberry jam,” Cliff smiled.

“Hey, what’s a few extra calories at this point?” George sighed.

“I’m getting a little extra exercise taking the kids outside to sleigh down the hills on weekends,” Dave said.

“Yeah, well I don’t have kids anymore and, besides, it’s play-off time in American football,” George said. 

“I wonder if you could add up all the pounds that are gained by people watching U.S. football what it would come to?” Cliff wondered. “And then there’s the foodfest that comes with the Superbowl in – where is it this year anyway?”

“New Orleans,” chirped in George.

“Holy mackerel, even more tasty food!” Cliff added.

“Tempting to go but with the Canadian dollar so low, who can afford a 30 per cent penalty?” George wondered.

“Well I’m sure plenty of people will still go south for the winter – and grumble about how much it costs, while some people back home have to sleep in tents because they can’t afford to rent the houses they leave behind,” Cliff said.

“Man!” George growled, “Mister perfect complains again!”

“I guess at least Taylor Swift will be free to watch her boyfriend, if he makes it to the Superbowl this year, now that her tour is over,” Dave said, trying to change the subject.

“Luckily he’ll get her a free ticket, after all she hardly can afford it,” George said ironically.

“Yeah, I saw she had her birthday in December on Friday the 13th,” Cliff put in. “She was 35 and I see on the internet the poor girl is only worth 1.6 billion dollars.”

“Man, she could keep my farm going for years with that much,” George said in wonder.

“But that Travis Kelce bum she’s hanging out with is only worth $105 million,” Cliff smirked. “Must be embarrassing to be seen with her.”

“And that’s in American dollars,” Dave said. “Imagine if you transferred it into Canadian dollars.”

“Now she wouldn’t be holding back on ordering breakfast,” Molly said as she overheard them when she brought their orders.

“Yeah, but have you seen those skimpy costumes she wears?” Cliff wondered. “She can’t afford even one extra pound in those.” ◊