That isn't funny, at all

Food for Sissies

The cable guy signed us up for a new TV setup. The channels are all new, the remote is new, and it doesn’t work properly unless I get off the couch and hold it three inches from the cable box, mashing the button and swearing. The swearing seems to help. The button only works occasionally without it. 

But, it’s 4 degrees outside and not much warmer in here, and I’m not getting off the couch because the boy will steal my blanket. It’s his main mission in life. He’s scheming, hiding behind the arm of the couch right now. I can see his cowlick blowing in the drafty breeze coming from under the door. I can hear his little mind making crunching sounds as it works.

There’s a cooking show on, and I’m going to watch it, because I’m not getting up. Some guy with spiky blond hair is cooking Moroccan Couscous with Julienned vegetables. What the hell is a Couscous? Who is Julienne? Is she hot? Men don’t cook this stuff. This show should be called, “Food for Sissies”. Men eat meat. They say there are four food groups but there is only one. Occasionally, bread, cheese (yes, cheese curls count), and hot sauce may be added. The boy and I have invented several perfectly edible culinary delights, comprised primarily of meat.

First, you have Chicken Bricks. These are prepared by cooking chicken breasts on the grill, while sprinkling some of your beer on them just because making the grill hiss is fun. Cook until done, and then forget on the grill while you look for more beer, realize there is none, and go to the store. Forget the fancy silverware. Serve with a chainsaw and chisel. Don’t give any hammers or chainsaws to the children. Don’t ask how I know that part.

Next, you have the Meat Melee sandwich. Whatever type of meat you might find in the fridge is fare game, and easy hunting. Chop it up and fry it in a pan until the smoke detector goes off and the dog which had been begging for scraps runs away whimpering. Serve on burnt toast.

The Hot Mess sandwich is a variant. Add hot sauce and Cajun spices to the meat melee until your eyes burn from the smoke. Give some to the dog to make it stop begging for a few weeks.

Men don’t cook Couscous.