Here comes the meat man…meat man you ask? Jokes aside, the meat man is the guy who delivers meat to our house…and I’m talking pork chops, hamburger, steaks, chicken. By the way, I don’t call him meat man to his face. I actually use his real name. When his truck pulls up to our house, I know I am on the meat hook.
We have known the meat man for over 10 years. The first day he showed up out of nowhere. Drove up in his pick-up truck with one of those deep freezers with the smoking ice. A regular butcher on wheels. With 3 little kids running around…I was an easy sell. It seemed like a great idea. I would always have something I could throw on the table…I mean lovingly prepare for my beautiful family. The only problem is, all 3 kids are not here anymore to eat all that meat. Do I need to be sitting at home gnawing on spare ribs and pork chops?
Being the salesman that he is…he gives me all the reasons why I should buy meat. Like…I would have meals for whenever Colinboy came home from college…and did I know college boys ate a lot of food? (duh) Oh, and I could have my friends over and entertain them. (Now that is an entertaining idea.)
I’m okay with the meat man giving me meat advice. The thing that gets me is…the meat man likes to give decorating advice…comments on what I have done with the house and even makes suggestions on paint colors and furniture. Decorating advice from the meat man is like…learning to dance from Heather Mills. Total Horse Meat!
Knock, Knock
Who’s there?
Meat man
Meat man who?
Meet man in St. Louis….okay not a good one
Knock knock…
Who’s there
Land Shark
Land Shark who
Land Shark eat Meat man….any better?
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