Last night we had a family barbecue to wish my MIL bon voyage, she left this morning for an African safari. Boo is scared to death she is going to be eaten by lion, bitten by a snake . . . or infected with bulimia.
"Boo, baby, it's malaria," I tell her, trying not to laugh.
"Whatever," she says through her tears.
So anyhoo, there was a huge spread - hamburgers, hot dogs and chicken from the grill, chips and dips, macaroni salad, fruit. I was starving after a long day and no lunch. I haven't had a hot dog in ages, I thought to myself. That looks good!
I fixed myself a plump, juicy hot dog, grabbed a drink and sat at the table with my MIL and SIL, while Ubes, FIL and BIL sat around the TV watching a tribute to Billy Mays. Seriously.
Just as I took my first bite of my hot dog, FIL came to check on us girls to see if we needed anything.
"How do you like that hot dog?" he asked. Like most men, FIL needs some positive feedback on his grilling skillz.
"It's delicious," I told him with my mouth full.
"Yeah?" he said, smiling proudly. "It's buffalo."
I immediately stopped chewing.
"It's buffalo. I got them at Costco. It's the leanest meat you can buy . . . blah blah blah . . ."
At that point I almost blacked out. The only thing keeping me from passing out was the thought of choking to death on a mouth full of buffalo-dog. That is so not the way I wanna go out, you know?
"Oh FIL, why did you tell me that?? I wish you had never told me that. Why didn't you wait until I finished?"
"What, you don't like it? You just said it was delicious."
"That's when I didn't know it was buffalo. I don't want to know what it is. It's bad enough that it's a hot dog!"
"So now you're not going to eat it?" He laughed.
"Hell no!" I told him.
"No, buffalo. That's the problem."
I tried to feed it to the dog. She wouldn't take it. What does that tell you? I mean, she licks her own butt for crying out loud.