I got this picture out of a 1937 cookbook that I found at my local thrift store. So I worte a little story about it using 1930’s slang. Hope you enjoy it.
Watching you eat is Aces! You’re cute as a bug’s ear . . .
Ha ha! Well, I certainly didn’t get flimflammed when I married a tomato like you! But you’re plate’s empty . . . what gives?
Oh I’ll eat later with the dog. I’m just content to sit here and smile at you while you eat a hearty breakfast consisting of breakfast dishes men like — that I thought up using my wifely wisdom.
That’s all wet. Tomorrow I want you to eat your breakfast at the breakfast table see? You’re a doll even if you are always bumping your gums.
What are you trying to say? That you made a brodie marrying me?
Well you gotta admit, you’re kind of a crumb.
Well! I should have know better than to marry a cinder dick.
Listen broad, being employed as railroad detective is better than squat, isn’t it?
OK, OK, don’t blow your wig, I’m not sore.
You and me both, kitten.
I know! Why don’t I get on the blower and make reservations at the speakeasy, and we’ll knock back a couple slugs of snazzy hooch.
You shread it, wheat! You know something?
When I look into those baby-blue pies of yours I can’t help thinking what a swell dame you are.
Thanks a heap, I’m sure.