A Partly Eaten Cobb Salad from IHOP


As I get home from work, my wife greets me with what looks like a leftover, partly eaten Cobb salad . . .

“We went to IHOP,” she says, “and we got this for you.”

“Oh, thanks,” I say. “Thanks for thinking of me.”

Later in the evening I catch up with my son and ask him what he had to eat at IHOP.

“I had a steak omelet and pancakes,” he says.

“That sounds really good. I wanted to thank you for treating me to the half-eaten Cobb salad.”

“Mom said you’d like that,” he says. “And that was pretty much a whole Cobb salad.”

“It looked partly eaten to me.”

“The bacon was partly eaten.”

“That’s the best part of the salad.”

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