Let me start out by saying that Mom doesn’t like to eat meat. It disagrees with her on a number of levels, so she usually tries to avoid it.
That having been said, Dad went to the grocery store to pick up a few things, and came home looking very full of something.
It turns out that, if you bought four sale items at the store, the fifth item was free. There are a few things Dad cannot resist, and these things are usually Reduced for Quick Sale, On Clearance, or “Free”. Mom says Dad has disgusting shopping habits, and they’re all going to get food poisoning.
Dad chose bacon, a particularly noxious brand of hot dog, a few other items, and his fifth item was a free smoked sausage. Later in the day, when Mom was asking Dad what he wanted to have for dinner this week, he kept saying, “Well, we’ve got that smoked sausage.” Mom made a face. Obviously, Dad was obsessing over his sausage. “Free meat!” Jamie quipped.
So, being the good and obedient (sorry, I choked there for a minute) wife that she is, Mom made Dad his Free Sausage Casserole.
Jamie looked at is askance. “Don’t worry,” Mom said. “There’s plenty of peanut butter and jelly.”
Being the good and obedient (sorry, I must have had something in my eye a second) son that he is, Jamie took a mouthful of the casserole. His face quickly assumed the look of something out of a horror movie. He took a mighty gulp and attempted to rearrange his features into something more pleasant. I was fascinated by this. “It’s OK honey. You don’t have to eat it. I don’t want you to get sick.”
“I’m sorry, Mom, I don’t want to insult your cooking.”
“Oh, I’m not insulted a bit. That stuff is gross. Here, let me make you a pb&j.”
“But it was free meat.”
“They couldn’t give it away.”
“Dad will want to eat the meat.”
“Dad can eat his own meat. I’m eating a pb&j.”
Sometimes, I’m glad I eat dog food.
Woof! Love, Maggie