Last night, my wife felt a sudden urge to get an X-Ray. It turned out to be nothing serious, but it left me in charge of cooking dinner. Fortunately, we had pork chops in the fridge. I broke out a frying pan, some olive oil, and some Thai seasoning. Even I can cook pork chops, right?

Not so much. First I burned the oil, then I burned the chops.

Fortunately, no one was around. I sliced the meat into thin strips so you couldn’t tell they were burned, then created sandwiches out of them. Throw in a side of macaroni and cheese, and I had a meal that the kids didn’t complain about.

This morning I caught Gus (the black lab) standing on his back legs so he could lick spattered oil off the counter. Apparently, I had made a bigger mess than I realized.

When my family members came home from their schools this afternoon, I warned them to keep an eye on Gus, to make sure he stayed off the counters.

“Well,” my oldest son said with a smile, “at least someone likes the pork chops!”

“What!?” I said. “No respect! None!”

“He’s just like his dad,” my wife interrupted, patting my cheek.

Hmph.

Next time they can cook their own bleepin’ pork chops!

Want to comment? Hit me up on Threads or Facebook!