{"id":2995,"date":"2006-03-06T01:27:00","date_gmt":"2006-03-06T01:27:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/brianjnoggle.com\/blog\/?p=2995"},"modified":"2017-12-21T15:17:49","modified_gmt":"2017-12-21T21:17:49","slug":"lessons-from-the-diner","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/brianjnoggle.com\/blog\/2006\/03\/06\/lessons-from-the-diner\/","title":{"rendered":"Lessons from the Diner"},"content":{"rendered":"

No, not that Diner<\/i><\/a>.<\/p>\n

Every Sunday, I take my sainted mother out to breakfast. Well, perhaps “take” is the wrong word, since she usually drives us there in that new little roller skate<\/a> of hers (I, of course, encouraged her to invest in a car I’d want to inherit, years hence, with low mileage<\/a>) and she mostly pays for breakfast. So every Sunday, I go with<\/i> (or perhaps sponge off<\/i>) my sainted mother to a small diner in historic (if you count the outlot of a new strip mall as “historic,” but someday, it will be, when we’re all living in underground catacombs or in orbit, how we’ll long for strip malls) Oakville, Missouri, for breakfast.<\/p>\n

But I digress. Over the course of my many hundreds of<\/strike> dozens of<\/strike> trips to that diner, I’ve learned valuable life lessons that have made me a better man, husband, and father. To whit:<\/p>\n