For my birthday I got a new Betty Crocker cookbook. The one this replaced looked like it's been well used/abused. After the kids went to bed last night, Ryan and I sat on the couch drooling over the pictures and checking out the new recipes. Then we flipped over to the meat section. Ryan about lost it. His monologue went something like this:
"Betty Crocker is crap. What kind of animals are those? There is no freakin' way those cuts of meat came from those animals. Look at that back. What's wrong with that sheep's legs? Are they broken? That is one poorly muscled pig. That [piece of meat whose name I don't remember] would only be half that size, and have two inches of fat on it. That's disgusting."
I was dying. As if the general public has any idea what "lousy structural confirmation" is. I don't, and I am married to a former college livestock judging team member, and current Ag teacher. Ryan went on, and on, and on. In between laughs, I was playing more dumb than I am trying to elicit more disgust from him. It was hilarious.