I love the days when Laura comes home from work and without saying hello makes a beeline to the back deck, raw meat in tow, and begins to grill, feverishly, as if she's been salivating all day long awaiting the fleshy taste of animal on her lips.
Yesterday was one of those days, and I must admit, I wasn't all that surprised to see that she was cooking seven pork steaks. Yup. Seven pork steaks for two people, and one baby. But the reality is that we will probably only eat two or three of them tonight. The other four are for her to carry around in her pockets for the next couple days and gnaw on at her leisure. My wife is a carnosaur.
Look how happy it makes her.
These guys better find a better hiding spot.
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