Chicken Wing Agreement

"I thought we talked about this," I leaned in from across the table and whispered to my husband.

He pulled the bone from his mouth.

There wasn't anything, I mean anything left on the bone!

"Oh my God! Look at your plate. You left all that meat on the bones," he countered.

We've had these conversations before. The agreement was that we he would NOT clean the bones when we were out in public. Family gatherings and at home, we he could eat the whole bone if he deemed it necessary.

Some people have a real talent for wing eating- they can put the whole wing in their mouths and pull it back out, completely bare, and you never see them chew. That's amazing! Maybe enough to be on America's Got Talent or something.

He added the bone to the others on a separate plate. Our plates always look totally different.

Now he was pouring Blue Cheese dressing over the remaining wings. Pushed his sleeves back before the attack.
As he raised the wing to his mouth, I looked around the restaurant and slouched in the booth.

Blue cheese all around his mouth and fingers. I held my breath, hoping some meat would be left on the bone when it came out.

No such luck. Meat, skin, and marrow was gone!

I couldn't take it. I excused myself to the bathroom.

When I came back I just kept my head down until he finished. I knew it would get ugly if I looked up to see the devastation.

Finally, the server came over.

"Whoa! You crushed those wings! You must've been hungry. Oh my God! You even ate the bone!" This is my interpretation of the look the server had when she brought the check.

"How was everything?" is what she really said.

"See how she looked at your plate?" I whispered.

"No. She shook her head at your plate because you wasted food," he laughed.

He surveyed my plate. "You got a lot of meat left," he added.

In desperation and fear that I would have to watch it all over again, I touched all of the wings and put my napkin on top of the plate.