Mr. How Sweet made these pancakes yesterday.
Blueberries and dark chocolate. Yes please. Yes please again. He used our tried and true whole wheat pancake recipe.
Not really. He used Bisquick. Do you really think Mr. How Sweet is the kind of guy who would measure out flour and baking powder? If he did, he’d do so in a sleeveless shirt and take down his framed wrestler photos to make sure they weren’t watching him.
He also bought some peanut butter chocolate Fiber One bars this weekend.
I ate one. Do you really think I’d turn down chocolate peanut butter anything?
It was disgusting. It tasted fake. Nothing has ever really tasted fake to me. I think we all can agree that I enjoy my HFCS in moderation. But these bars tasted like garbage. And I am an equal opportunity foodie.
He ate 3 of the BBQ chicken burgers yesterday. But when I asked how they were, he simply replied, “they are good.”
This does not sit well with me, assurance-seeking freak that I am. “Just good? What does that mean? Not great?”
“Well, I’m spoiled. I have a wife who just made me a filet mignon sandwich for dinner last week. They are good.”
Winning! “Really? It sounds like you have a really awesome wife.”
“She’s okay. She’d be even awesom-er if she let me buy that camouflage NASCAR baseball cap I want.”
I watched It’s Complicated again this weekend. Oh, and I also watched Sex and the City 2 three times in 12 hours. You do the math. I have no idea why Mr. How Sweet doesn’t let me have control of the remote.