I’m in big trouble. See, my wife has a week of special dinners planned in celebration of launch week. It’s very thoughtful of her, but she drew her inspiration for the entire weekly menu from Roy’s dad’s kitchen catastrophes described in Mudville (some of his favorite recipes are here).
I got wise to her plan when I noticed this week’s groceries were a bit out of step with what she usually brings home. Instead of fresh vegetables, there were Fritos. Instead of organic chicken breasts, there was canned meat. Tonight we’ll have chili dog pie, with spam manicotti and spinach surprise slated for later in the week.
My wife is an excellent cook, and I’m sure she will nudge a few of these dishes towards edibility while remaining faithfully within in the parameters of what I describe, but… ulp. I better double my daily dose of heartburn medicine.
Be careful what you write. You never know how or when it will come back to haunt you.