Saturday mornings are interesting at our house. There is a breakfast dance that we perform where we try to decide what the other person wants for breakfast and at what time it should be eaten. If you’re planning on eating lunch then you need to eat an early breakfast. No lunch.. then you will need a late morning breakfast. When (time wise) you eat it, tends to determine what it is you will eat. All that planning makes me hungry even if I wasn’t in the first place.

Today I didn’t really want to cook a big breakfast and then do the big cleanup, so when Dream Girl ask if she could have a bowl of cereal I got really weirded out. In all our years of marriage she has never asked my permission to do anything. Then I realized that was her way of planning out the daily food schedule. Which brings me to something that transpired this week. Choosing a place to eat.

Early in the week we were at work and she asked where I wanted to go for lunch. I told her that I didn’t care and she should pick. She replied that she “has to pick every time” and it was my turn to make a choice. I knew this wasn’t true but didn’t have the energy to debate since I was starving. As we drove away from work she asked where I had decided to eat. Before I could answer she added that she “didn’t care as long as it wasn’t Mexican or a buffet… or Chinese”. So now with a severely depleted list of choices I decided that I would take her to Pizza Hut Bistro because they have had a toasted sandwich called the Supremo that Dream Girl loves loved. (She is just finding out that it is no longer an item on their menu now because I just found it out when searching the Pizza Hut website in search of the name. Better she find out now and not when we were at the table… it would not have been pretty) Anyway… so about two blocks from the Hut she asks where we’re going? I say the Hut and she say “I thought we were going to Giovanni’s.

I have no idea why she would have thought that. I never said that and it was my choice day remember. I may have mentioned something about Italian but never mentioned a destination. So at the very last instant I turned left out of the right lane across five other lanes of traffic and into the parking lot of Giovanni’s where we had a wonderful lunch. I’m really glad I made that last minute decision on location.

The very next day at lunch as we left work Dream Girl asked where we were going and I told her it was her turn because I picked yesterday. She corrected me and reminded me that she picked Giovanni’s. Oops… you’re right dear I will decide today. To which she replied.. “It should be easy for you today because I have no rules. Anywhere is fine today”.

I kept my choice to myself. Silently I drove toward sustenance. I had picked a little Chinese buffet and as I pulled into the left turn lane at the median cut, Dream Girl screamed “Not Here”, “We can’t eat here.” I asked what she was taking about. She said that the last time she ate there it was nasty. I didn’t ask in what way it had been nasty. I simply jerked the steering wheel to the right gouging a hole into oncoming traffic bound for another yet to be determined non-nasty destination with full knowledge that if we were involved in a traffic accident the only decision to be made at the hospital was what color of Jell-O you want with your cold chicken.

Oh.. for breakfast today I allowed her to have that bowl of cereal which involves some kind of red and blue colored freeze dried something that when mixed with milk can permanently stain the bowl and the porcelain sink. What the heck it does to your digestive tract is anyone's guess but frightening for sure.

I opted for my favorite “breakfast in a can” Beans and Franks by Southgate. Great hot or cold, says so right there on the can. And that’s the way I eat them. Cold in the winter, hot in the summer. Actually, I eat them at what ever the ambient outside temperature is because they are stored in the garage. Today I had them cold at a frosty 31°. At that temperature the beans are crisp… almost crunchy.

As I opened the can I was grossed completely out. There floating amongst my beans were plump little maggots. Not a frank in sight but lots of beans and maggots. I could not believe what I was seeing. I poked around on them trying to see if they were alive or dead, running through different scenarios of how and when they could have possibly gotten into my beans and franks and why they ate the franks and not the beans.

Then I realized that I had grabbed the wrong can off the shelf. I had grabbed the Pinto Beans and Rice by Southgate. Boy that was a relief.

Sorry this is so long it just kinda took on a life of it’s own. One thing about it though, it’s now time for lunch. Two things I know for sure… I won’t be the one picking the location and I won’t be ordering rice.