Roland noticed that beside his plate of chicken nuggets were three brightly colored crayons and a piece of paper with the line drawings of a coloring book. He picked a crayon up with his fingers and asked the waiter, “What is this?”

The waiter looked at him seriously and said, “Every child’s meal comes with a crayons and a page for coloring, Sir.”

“But I’m not a child, why did you bring this to me?”, Roland demanded.

The waiter drew himself up to his full height and said solemnly, “It’s part of a child’s meal, Sir. If I didn’t bring the crayons and page, you wouldn’t have gotten what you were paying for. The rules are very strict here, Sir.”

“But I didn’t order a child’s meal!”, Roland protested.

“I know, Sir. Your wife did when she made the reservations,” the waiter replied with an air of invulnerability.

“Louise?”, Roland asked, “I thought you said that you had already ordered because I was late. What’s going on here? Is he right? Did order a child’s plate for me when you made the reservations?”

“Yes, I did Roland!”, in admission of a materialistic lie. The Maitre-de’s honesty had befouled her plans somewhat, but the basics of her scheme were still recoverable. All she had to do was get Roland to shut up and eat his dinner to get her pan on track again. “They were the only thing on the menu that wouldn’t aggravate your ulcer. Don’t make a scene! Just eat the chicken and we’ll talk about it after dinner!”, Louise said severely.

Louise stopped talking and dove into her food with zest. The hormones she had been taking had given her a ferocious appetite over the past two days. Roland shrugged and ate his chicken nuggets quietly, wondering if her remark meant that she suspected he had taken a twenty year old girl as his mistress. As Roland chewed each nugget, his clothes became looser and more unkempt. The sleeves of his jacket seemed to be attracted to the bowl of sweet and sour dipping sauce like magnets. Finally Louise said, “Roland, why don’t you take off your coat and make yourself comfortable? There’s no one back here in the rear of the restaurant but the staff to see you and you can always put it back on before you leave the table if you feel like it at the end of the meal. For that matter, why don’t you take off your tie and roll up your sleeves too? What I have to say later might be extremely upsetting and I want you to be as comfortable as possible.”

Roland gave his wife a searching glance at the sudden change in his wife’s standards. Usually, she demanded that he be neat as a pin when he went out with her. That was one thing he liked about his mistress; she didn’t care how he looked, only about the quality of their lovemaking. Roland removed his coat without getting up from his chair and draped it inside-out on the chair’s back, then took off his tie and stuffed it in his jacket’s pocket. As he rolled up his sleeves, Louise added, “Live it up, Roland! Take your shirttail out too! It’s halfway out anyway, you might as well go whole hog!”

Roland grinned and sighed as he took his shirt out of his pants. Louise had been right about relaxing, even his ulcer had stopped hurting. Despite the apprehension that he felt earlier, he suddenly felt relaxed and….loose. Both of his feet seemed to have gone to sleep simultaneously. There was a strong tingling feeling that surrounded both feet and was racing up the rear of his legs to his bottom. He moved around a bit in an attempt to improve the circulation in his legs, but instead of alleviating the odd sensation, it intensified it. Strangely though, there was no discomfort that he’d normally associate with the feeling of pins and needles that he was experiencing. The sensation was an altogether pleasant one as if he was being revitalized and energized. As he ate another chicken nugget, even his tight-fitting dress shoes felt comfortable for the first time in years. He wriggled his toes around in his shoes surreptitiously and discovered that his shoes had seemed to have gotten larger. The tingling sensation reached his ears and became a light tickling feeling when it reached the top of his head. Roland felt wonderful! He giggled in spite of himself, causing Louise to say as she forked up her last oyster, “Eat up, Honey, after dinner we can talk!”