Last night as I am TRYING to make dinner, Nick is standing on the other side of the bar watching me cook and asking questions. We had this conversation:
“Is dinner ready yet?” “No, I am working on it”
“What’s for dinner?” “Spaghetti with meatballs and salad”
“Can we have French bread too?” “Yes”
“Can’t we have something else?” “No, this is what we are eating tonight”
“I will eat a Hot Pocket” “No you won’t”
“How long until it’s ready?” “Much sooner if you go find something else to do”
“I don’t want to much sauce on mine” “I know, I won’t try to kill you”
“Did you know that pasta is a carb?” “Yes, I do”
“What is in the meatballs?” “Meat, parmesan cheese, egg, and garlic”
“Oh”
“Is that how you normally make them?” “Yes”
“How much longer, I am really hungry” “Half an hour, go wash up”
“Why? I have half an hour” Silence
“OK, I’ll go wash”
Then poor Devon walked in and asked “What’s for dinner?”
“ For crying out loud! We are having Goat Testicle Stew, now go wash you hands”
I heard him ask Nick in the bathroom “What’s a goat testicle?”
1 comment:
I came across your site by browsing and I have not been able to leave during my whole lunch hour. You are hilarious! I had tears coming down my face from laughing so hard when you posted about your "windmill fall" at work. We have a lot in common! Keep up the good work. :)
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