Was she kidding about her belly? Paul thought, somewhat amused.  It’s not like it was gonna be permanent, that’s for sure.  Still, it was enough for her to change her mind about that second helping.  Not a bad idea, as he figured there was always leftovers for another time.  Besides, Charlette had served them a pretty generous first bowl.  She then rolled her hips mockingly, though it wasn’t that bad of a belly dancer impression.  And that was another thing.  Why didn't anyone ever call it an ass dancer?  Both shook with equal aplomb, after all.  With that mental question, he knew he was a little biased.  Yeah, right.  He was more than just a little.<br/><br/>What’s this?  Dinner AND a dance?  Score, Old Man!<br/><br/>There was no fitting response to that, Paul thought, sitting there in silence until Charlette snapped him out of his reverie by taking away his empty bowl.  He could hear her putzing around in the kitchen, before returning to the living room.  She then proceeded to reclaim his lap, never mind about all the empty spots to sit on like chairs and a sofa.<br/><br/>You’re getting slow, Old Man.  I’ll see what I can do about a walker.<br/><br/>“Um, you’re welcome,” he stammered.  “I’m glad you enjoyed it.  Wait until we slather that chili in a hot dog bun.”  Paul laughed, recalling her napkin clean-up from earlier, not to mention Charlette poking his nose.  “Chili dogs can be messy, but that’s okay.  It’s good to get that sauce around your mouth,” he fondly stated, already looking forward to the deliciousness of a chili dog.<br/><br/>Hot dog?  Sauce?  Shall I help you dig that grave, Old Man?