Shopping for Zing Zang

Big Daddy and I have decided to support our local businesses here in our little township.  So when our Bloody Marys became just Marys, we went to the new Brown Derby to restock.

At nine in the evening, the parking spots in front of the store were full.  We had to park down the strip center aways-right in front of the 24 hour access gym!

I was mortified.  I got out of my car and stayed in the shadows until I could burst noisily through the hooch house doors.

I made it back to the car unseen.  

Whew!  That was a close one.

What if someone drove by and saw me parked right in front of the gym?  

My reputation would be in shreds. 

...just like that

Big is 17.

For another month or so anyway.

Tonight, for one reason or another, it was just he and me at home.

There was no Xbox, no computer games, no texting.

There we sat on the divan.  House was on the TV.

He piled the couch pillows in my lap and laid his head down so I could run my fingers through his hair.

And just like that....

He was seven.

Just like that...

He was a sleepy little guy crawling up to snuggle under my arm-slowly waking up to go to kindergarten.

Just like that...

Just like that...

So, yeah. 

For just a second he was seven.

It was nice.

A Very Brady Rastlin' Match

I've never eaten pork chops and applesauce myself.  But Peter Brady and Alice surely made it popular in the 70's.

It seems to be a dish that goes together like apple pie and cheddar cheese.

Another combination I've never eaten.

In lieu of our current economy, I can also understand why The Pony would substitute pork chops with pork rinds.

It's frugal.  

Why waste a cut of the new white meat, when you can get a bag of chicharrones at the Wal-Mart for 99 cents?

Being from Missouri, I also know about the long standing argument that centers around how to pronounce the name of our fair state.

Mizzoureeeee?  Mizzouraaahhh?

So in keeping with our highfalutin quest to sound educated and genteel, I can see why The Pony-in its infinite wisdom-would deliberately choose a more sophisticated and exotic spelling.

I can think of no other explanation.  Maybe you can.

So for tonight's entertainment, I give you...

Applesauce and Pork Rhine rastlin'.

...you can't make this shinola up.

Fiber

So Big Daddy and I were trekking through Country Mart.  

It's a jim dandy of grocery store down Hollister way.  After we visited with Prissy last Saturday, we braved the hellish winds and came down from Point Lookout to check out their wares.

Yes.  Yes it is an exciting adventure for us to mindlessly aim through a grocery store.  

A crazy life I lead,  I know.

After a spell, we stopped in the bread aisle for me to read labels.  

Now don't get your bowels in an uproar thinking I'm a good Mom.

I most certainly am not. 

Big and Little are fed a steady diet of fats, preservatives, and sugar. 

OK, I do sprinkle liberally with vegetables and fruits and protein.

I digress...

So I let my boys eat junk, but one thing I never buy is white bread.  As a daughter of a diabetic, the one lesson I retrained from my youth is that white flour is nothing but pure sugar.  

I'd rather give them sugar from a yummier place...like the jelly that goes on the peanut butter that goes on the bread.

In fact I remember vividly Big coming home from first grade and when I asked him what he bought for lunch that day, he told me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

I asked him why in the world he would spend his lunch money on that, when I could make him one at home for free.

He told me it was because they use 'fresh' bread at school.

...white bread.

So I read labels.  I make sure they it's not just whole wheat, but 100% whole grains. Ya gotta get the fiber.

So Big Daddy patiently waits for me to read the bread and then we move on.  As I glance across the aisle, I notice the crackers.  There is now a brand of crackers that has added fiber.

Lookit!  Those crackers have added fiber.  Those are poo crackers.

Could you say that a little louder so the rest of the store can hear that?

Why?  That's what they are.  Eat a handful of those and tell me they aren't poo crackers.

Big Daddy walks off.  He does that often when accompanying me places.

Further down the aisle I come across the peanut butter.  I picked up a pack of snack size PB packages and thought that would be a great way to pass off carrots as a treat in the lunch sacks.  They can dip them in the PB.

I read the back of the label.

There's no fiber in peanut butter, Sugar.

Course not.  Then it would be poo-nut butter.

He left the store.

When You Need a Helping Hand

I took an informal poll at work today.

I asked the girls what type of Hamburger Helper they thought would be used.

It was unanimous.

Beef Stroganoff.

Jack thinks we should have a blogmeet down Pony way.

Jason brought up an excellent question.  What does one wear-if anything-when rastlin' in such exotic fare?  Would it endanger a female competitor's, um...you know, health if one competed in their all together?  

I started to do some research, but stopped when I found this site.

Enjoy.