POP! Goes the Wiener

While I was enjoying my friends’ visit last week,  I received regular reports, complete with photos, from the beach contingent–Dearly Beloved and his sidekick, Miss Piggy.  Phone calls, e-mails, and oh, I mustn’t forget the videos of his golf swing that he e-mailed regularly… although I’ll certainly try.

Good Egg Son made the first videos when he spent several days there with his dad.  I enjoyed hearing the father/son conversation in the background, so I actually watched those.

Remember the old, old golf video I fed-exed to him so that he could compare his now and then swings?  No good deed goes unpunished; he has been sending me little clips from the tape, worse than ever because he’s videoing them as he watches the tape on television.  He figures he has about 90 of them to share.  Send your requests directly to him.

Perhaps he believes there is a precedent.  Our Indiana daughter supplies her dad with videos of her sons’ basketball games, much to his delight.  He loves seeing the grandsons play, so daughter Boo patiently records the game in spurts with her  iPhone and sends them to Granddad.  I’m talking 30 videos or more per game and he watches every one of them, often more than once, completely enthralled.  Perhaps he thinks I feel the same way about the golf videos. (Boo has a video camera, but doesn’t want to watch through a lens, so she holds up her phone and records it that way.  Makes sense to me.)

Unfortunately, DB learned to record his own swing after Good Egg Son returned to Virginia.  The decline in quality of the videos was nothing compared to his diet once he was left alone.  No more seafood dinners out, since he doesn’t enjoy eating out by himself–too much of that during his business travel years.  He detests grocery shopping and  resists any suggestion of meal preparation which might involve complicated procedures like thawing or mixing. That leaves meals which range between strange and truly bizarre.

Yesterday, having gone through all the spaghetti and marinara sauce in the pantry, he ordered a takeout tuna fish sandwich from the grill at the golf course.  He thought nothing strange when they handed him two boxes, assuming it was a large sandwich and they’d put each half in a different box.  He stuck them in the refrigerator when he returned to the house.  Later, he removed the top box and ate the tuna fish sandwich it contained.  Since the whole sandwich was there,  he wondered about the contents of the other box.

Four grilled wieners… just that–no bun, no chips.  Four grilled wieners.

They certainly wouldn’t want them back, so he decided that he’d have a couple for dinner, maybe even share a bite with Miss Piggy.  The hot dogs and a can of vegetarian baked beans would be delicious, he told me on the phone.  He asked what would be the best way to reheat the wieners.

“Microwave,” I told him.  He didn’t ask and, not wanting to insult his intelligence, I didn’t offer any more information.

Later, he called to tell me that my advice had not produced a satisfactory result.  The wieners shrunk, split, and shriveled.  He ate them anyway, of course.

I was baffled.

“How long did you cook them?” I asked.

I don’t know…. I just cooked them the same way I cook everything in the microwave,”  he told me.

“And how is that?” I asked.

“Popcorn setting.”

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24 thoughts on “POP! Goes the Wiener

    • Gee, maybe you should post recipes that are man-capable. (That’s not a slam on your abilities!) Jerry over at Gently Said has even started a cooking blog along with his regular one.

    • When Boo was a teenager she worked at a movie theater concession stand. She’d bring him all the leftover popcorn. Picture a bushel or so of popcorn. I don’t remember him ever throwing any away.

      I learned a long time ago… don’t let him hold the popcorn bag in the movies! Even then, it NEVER makes it to the main feature!

  1. At least they didn’t explode! Then you’d have to clean fossilized wiener bits from the inside of the microwave the next time you’re at the beach.

    (Fossilized wiener—why does that make me think of Larry King?)

  2. NO! NO! NO! I forgot everything about this funny post when I saw that DB planned to share the hot dogs with Miss Piggy. And she’s been doing so well. Better get out the “old nag” voice and remind him that she has arthritis and the less weight she carries on her joints the better. She simply CANNOT have anything except her measured food. Well, maybe a few carrot pennies or two canned string beans…but NO HOT DOGS.

    Maybe you can give us a list of foods we can cook on “popcorn.” I’ve never given it a try.

    • He says he didn’t give her a hot dog–just cut off the very end for a taste. If it was as tasteless as it sounds, it might well have put her off hot dogs for good! He threw the others away.

      You’re right–she IS doing well! We’ll make sure we don’t go backwards. Carrots and green beans are rejects, I’m afraid. She’d rather eat sh–.

      PS. He says to tell you it was a Boar’s Head frank.

  3. Women enjoy marriage—men need to be married or they would starve and their socks would rot but at least all the pickle jars would be open. God love em.
    Too, too funny.

    • I do that sometimes, too. :) I applaud your guy’s survival skills.

      DB is funny about cereal–when he eats it, he puts apple juice on it instead of milk. This time it would probably have required a trip to the grocery store.

  4. I don’t cook either… it’s a vicious cycle: I don’t cook, they become lousy eaters; they are lousy eaters, so I don’t cook.

    I have been burning our popcorn with the preset ever since we started buying the healthier kind (i.e. smaller package)…

  5. He cooke everything on the Popcorn setting!! Yes! I knew someone else would see the wisdom in this—popcorn never burns on this setting. I could not agree more–spaghetti-o’s cold out a can is better than suffering the grocery store, any day of the week. I like the pop off can tops so I don’t have to navigate the can opener.
    I would post one of the golf video’s as an experiment. It could be one of your best clicked on posts–ever.

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