Battle Hymn of Chester Cheetah

Every Sunday afternoon, to the TV I am glued.
My wife begins to interrupt which I think is quite rude.
‘I’m heading to the market so that we can have some food.’
‘Do you want anything?’

‘You say the cupboard’s empty but all you do is complain.’
‘My patience has been tested and now it’s starting to wane.’
‘You’re not very helpful for someone with food on the brain.’
‘Why don’t we make a list.’

I say, “Ballpark Franks and pretzel rods. I think I’m out of those.’
And while you’re there can you get me a 12-pack case of Strohs?’
And I think I need some Chips Ahoy, but that’s it I suppose.’
I’ll be asleep when you return.’

I wake up and check the clock; it’s a quarter after five.
My belly is quite empty and I don’t think I’ll survive.
It’s about two hours later when she pulls up in the drive.
Just in the nick of time.

I rifle through the grocery bags and much to my surprise –
Everything is wholesome – no ice cream sandwiches or pies.
Not a single greasy food like tater tots or fries.
Just what is going on?

Carrot sticks and celery stalks – nothing is a winner.
Where is the Hungry Man entrees or the boxes of Kraft Dinner?
She replies to me, ‘Look honey, you ain’t getting any thinner.’
'You need to drop some weight.'

I fall upon my knees and loudly call out to the skies,
‘Whatever did I do to deserve this cruel, unjust demise?’
I am absolutely, positively comfortable with my size!’
'I need some Cool Ranch dip.'

I sort through all the health food and I don’t see a thing I like.
I can’t make heads or tails of this forced hunger strike.
‘What if I take a jog or even try to ride a bike?’
‘Will you buy me Manwich then?’

She at last grinned a little and she reached behind her back.
And finally revealed the last plastic grocery sack.
‘I felt a little guilty so I did get you a snack.’
Why don’t you look inside?’

I tentatively opened up the Kroger bag in hand.
Needless to say this afternoon hadn’t turned out like I planned.
I hoped and prayed for something that wasn’t good for me or bland.
My luck had finally turned.

My mouth began to water. I’m so glad I called her bluff.
Man can’t live on bread alone or any of that healthy stuff,
So I ripped open the package and grabbed a fried corn puff.
I nearly shed a tear.

I popped one in my waiting mouth with much ado and gust.
My wife, well, she just shook her head in revulsion and disgust.
On my jeans I wiped my fingertips of all the orange dust.
They’re Dangerously Cheezy.™

Cheetos, Cheetos in the pantry.
Cheetos, Cheetos in the pantry.
Cheetos, Cheetos in the pantry.
I am a lucky man.