By Nikki Pelezo / Dirt Roads
Charlie, my husband, wanted hamburgers for supper tonight. I handed him the package of frozen patties and he made for the grill. In no time at all I saw him standing in the middle of a cloud of smoke heavenly scented with beef.
Our stomachs were growling and it seemed we couldn’t get to the table fast enough. We hastily made our burgers and chowed down. The first words out of Charlie’s mouth were “These patties are tasteless, where did you buy the meat?”
I assured him he was eating 100% Angus beef from somewhere in Montana, Argentina or Sam’s Club and my hamburger was wonderful.
He chewed a few more bites and told me to buy regular hamburger and make my own patties, because this Angus patty was like eating cardboard. I sulked and told him he was out of his mind. He sniffed and snorted and once again stated his patty was for the birds and eating shoe leather would be tastier.
In a huff he made himself another hamburger and sheepishly took count and noticed he had not put a patty on his first hamburger bun. I looked at him and he looked at me and he said “This was a test to see if I could go vegetarian!”
I personally think his forgetfulness is age related and telling little fibs won’t get him out of trouble.