Togo Goes Prestigious

It seems that people want to be prestigious. So that you know, “prestigious” means “inspiring respect and admiration.”

Take Daddy, for example. I think he would like to be a person of prestige — he just hasn’t found the right vehicle to catapult him to fame and fortune. And since he retired, the odds are getting slimmer. Being friends with me is kind of his “big deal.” I like to think that I’ve made him a household name. That’s because I do my best to share the spotlight with Daddy from time to time.

For example, I have my own personal counter at the local sandwich shop. Unfortunately, I’m not a big fan of sandwiches. Momma pointed out that they also have salads. She might not have thought that through. The last thing I need is for someone to snap a picture of me with spinach in my teeth. That’s why I sent Daddy in to have his picture made there.

I am working on a deal with that particular establishment to allow them to use my counter for other people and just pay me a royalty for every sandwich that passes that way. I call it “The Togo Toll.”

But that’s not the only place I’m known. 

This sign was in Boerne, Texas. That’s a long way from here. If Daddy and I started walking in that direction tomorrow, it would be two weeks before we could get there. Even though they have drinks waiting for me, I think it’s a little impractical.

Last night, Daddy and Momma ordered food from a different restaurant. Daddy was quiet when he came home from picking it up. Momma said that not only did they have a parking spot with my name on it, but they put my name on the ticket. And they still made Daddy pay for it.

After dinner, Daddy changed into his old clothes and came out back. I knew he was okay because I make him feel prestigious. You have to admire and respect a guy who listens and writes down your stories. And sits with you in your swing.