Danger Monkey, age 9: “Let’s go to Belize or the Florida Keys to see the Goliath Grouper.”
My Oldest, 15: “I would go to the Keys.”
Wonderful Wife: “I would love to go back to Venezuela and hit Belize, too.”
DM: “I vote for Belize. Where do you want to go, Daddy?”
Me: “Brunch.”
The horrible thing about having leftover pork chops in the fridge is that I end up making things like a hot pork, ham, bacon and swiss sandwich.
Did I say horrible? I meant amazing.
This sandwich is AMAZING.
I call it, “No Regrets”.
Other names considered were “YOLO” and “Porky Paid the Price”.
Also considered, “Gout Is My Friend”.
Me: “No, I’m fine. We don’t need to do anything for Fathers Day.”
Wonderful Wife: “Well, I thought you’d like to at least hit a brunch. There’s got to be some all-you-can-eat bacon with your name on it somewhere.”
Me: (slow blink)
Me: “I have never loved you more than I do at this very moment.”
Very Vocal Viking 