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?

What?

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.