I like men. I like men a lot. And a man in a sandwich, somehow sounds appetizing. A nice crusty bread, maybe some bacon and a Beckham. This certainly sounds like a meal fit for a Seductress.
Beckham + BACON =
(see I even made that "bacon" color for ya!)
Wait, I got really sidetracked for a moment.
Wait, I got really sidetracked for a moment.
Let me start over in a pure, sweet "I was raised in Church" kind of way.
We didn't eat many things out of the ordinary growing up. Dad loved a good steak, kids loved a prodigy "Chefboy" and his rousing rings of Ardee. But I think that was about the only processed food type of thing we ate. Mom cooked her specialty "tuna casserole" a lot. A lot, did I mention we had "tuna Casserole" a lot? We did. We had it a lot!! Which I actually kind of liked until one summer day while out on my Grandpa's rabbit farm, I believe it was my brother that said:
"You know Boom-Boom head, Mom's "TUNA" casserole is actually made with RABBITS!!"
I think there even was a visual demonstration of him picking up a cute, little, white, fluffy, VICTIM and as it wiggled it's loppy ears and twitched it's cute button nose at me, it plead NOT to become Mom's "It's not really tuna, casserole".
Ever since that day, I threw up a little in my mouth, and my brother tried to hide a belly laugh, when that casserole appeared in front of us.
But there was no Spam (the horror!!!) no pop-tarts (except Thanksgiving morning while watching the parade, the heavens opened up on us and it rained a pop-tart!), no Slim Jim's (I love Slim Jim's!! I even made up a country song about Slim Jim's- It was about a single girl in a gas station store around Corn Nut's (hillbilly guys) and cheez curls (jock heads) until her Slim Jim walked in!! But he had a Sweettart (flusie gal) with him, so she settled with Budweiser (the beer, no human compares). We were allowed no soda (urp), no potted meat (thank goodness) BUT-------NO MANWICH!! (see how I pulled you back in to the plot of the post? I am a freaking genius!! Say it with me....G-E-N-I-U-S!! ;} )
I always saw those commercials of a happy family sitting down together at a round 70's style table, with wood paneling behind them, wearing orange clothes and dad ALWAYS had a thick brown mustache, (does this show my age???) They all were busy laughing because little Johnny had Manwich all over his face and needed yet ANOTHER paper towel. The Mom would shake her head at him sweetly. I never really thought THAT was a LOL- ROFL- LMAO situation, but apparently, it ONLY is IF you are eating Manwiches.
I never bought Manwich. I always passed by it and thought of little Johnny and wondered where he was today, and if he was single, and still cute, and learned some basic eating skills, and if he still liked it when people ruffled his hair and touched his nose lightly when he did something "cute" at the dinner table. Because that would be a catch right there!!!!
So yesterday after being at the doctor from 2-7 because apparently I make a fine specimen, and then spending another hour getting prescriptions all while accompanied by a poor little bored "I already colored da whole doctor bed paper mom!!! I don't want to color anymore!!!" 4 year old. I was tired. I even I brought my little electronic Q20 game and Traxx and me went through the whole animal world and had started on vehicles until it flubbed. It had gotten every one right until we were on car and it said "mini-van". I said: "well that's close enough right?" It wasn't. Traxx was miffed, how could it have the nerve to guess "mini-van" when it was CLEARLY A CAR?? And earlier it had guessed "Giraffe" when it was SUPPOSED to be a Zebra!! Oye. This caused a little Meltdown. (really??) I stopped it with 3 M&M's because I am a professional.
Instigator of meltdown!!
But we were starved and "cooking" was out of the question. So I picked up that "pre-made" tub of Manwich with a smile. The volume of the "conducive to a boring shopping trip" music over the Grocery Store radio increased as it played: "Eye of the Tiger" and I ran, boxeresquely to the register grabbing some "buns" on the way down the bread aisle (the men in the bread aisle had nice assets last night), and THEN I grabbed a package of bread rolls.
As we got home and I prepared a Manwich for me and Traxx, I was a little upset. This wasn't magic, there was no delectable aroma that would lift someone off the ground and float them to my kitchen while they frantically sniff the air.
Traxx took a bite and set it down. He looked at me with his big meatball brown eyes and said bluntly:
"Scrape the MAN off of mine."
"Oh you just want the "wich" not the "Man"? I repeated for my own selfish humor purposes.
"Yes please! MAN's are NASNEE!!"
I pondered the gravity of that statement and hallucinated that David Beckham had just jumped off the bun, flipped me off and walked out of my life forever.
I do like bread tho.