Flights & Fanciness.

What's better than enjoying a beer with your loved ones? Enjoying THREE beers with your loved ones!

(Or, if you are under age 21, enjoying a glass of juice and a jolly conversation with your loved ones.

(Or, if you are under age 21 and have diabetes, enjoying a glass of juice and a shot of insulin and a jolly conversation with your loved ones.

(Or, if you are under age 21 and have diabetes and hope to go into a diabetic coma so you can meet a handsome ER doctor, enjoying a glass of juice that you have spiked with a few packets of sugar and a jolly conversation with your loved ones and the fact that you are still on your loved ones' insurance plan.)))

I had the privilege of enjoying what they call a "flight" of beers at a restaurant with no fewer than three of your grandparents not long ago, and it about made my eyes pop out of my head. Luckily, they did not. And if they had, there was a good chance they would have landed in a glass of beer, which would have killed the germs. RIGHT? RIGHT??

Lord, Preserve Us...

...said these squashes. But since nobody named Lord lives here, I decided to step in. This time tomorrow, these salted and peppered zucchini discs should be ready to satisfy your craving for snackfood AND part of your daily vegetable requirements.

I know. I'm quite clever.

The Curious Case of the Fancy Beer.

Your father is not usually a fancy man. But every now and then, he'll surprise me with some unexpectedly fancy behavior. This weekend, for example, he was drinking a perfectly un-fancy Schlafly pilsner. Normal, right?

But then he poured it into an absurdly fancy glass and started sipping it like a lady-man.

And I was like, huh?

 

P.S. What's that bowl of bean dippy-looking stuff in the background? What's boiling on the stove? Check back tomorrow for all the juicy details about the dinner that began in the pantry and ended in tradgedy... the Case of the Ugly Dunklings*.

*Yes, I know standard English calls this food "dumplings." But sometimes I like to switch "dump" and "dunk." It's pretty fun, kids. You should try it.

Being Fancy.

Children, you know by now that your father and I are many things, but one thing we are certainly not is fancy. However, from time to time, both of us like to "play against type," as it were, and act a bit fancy just to get it out of our system.

This week, your father went all out. First, he insisted that we visit a local winery, and when we got there, he donned one of the fanciest disguises of all: the finger mustache.

After a leisurely session of drinking wine in an extremely fancy multi-layer outdoor deck (in a shirt so fancy it has buttons on it), he frolicked among the grapevines to demonstrate just how at ease he is with fanciness.

I would be lying if I said I wish you could have been there, children, because if you had, I would have had to take care of you instead of drinking delicious wine. But I am glad you have this blog post to cherish for all of eternity.