If you know how much fun Jason and his family have making fun of sauce words and people who enjoy their food too much, you'll know why this both horrifies and amuses him.
Friday afternoon I took Ainsley to KFC. Mostly because we were in a hurry to get from Scout's vet appointment (Mom called me at 5:30am because the cat was sick--with a cold) to my hair appointment and needed someplace we could turn left across Dixie Highway into. I'm not proud of that being my main nutritional criterion.
As always, Ains got the popcorn chicken kids' meal. I wanted a 3-piece strip meal, which is bad enough to order when you have to say "3-piece strip meal" but which now has the added distinction of being part of their "Fill-Up Box" menu.
So, yeah, I had a Fill-Up Box. Laugh it up, Jason's siblings who read the blog.
Ainsley was pigging down her popcorn chicken.
"Ains, don't forget about your macaroni and cheese."
She looked at me and said, deadly serious and without a trace of irony,
"I can't just let good chicken go to waste!"
Those are words to live by.
On Sunday, we were grilling hotdogs (in the rain--Ugliest. 4th. Ever.) When Ainsley found out that we were grilling for dinner, she sighed:
"I love me my hotdogs."
I think all that Paula Deen watching we do is rubbing off on her.