The King, as I have implied before in this blog, is particular. I say "particular" rather than many other words that describe him that might not be quite as nice.
To be honest, I blame it partly on myself. I have created, in many ways, a "monster". Not because I do everything for the King, because I don't. But in all ways food, the King is getting a little big for his britches. I like to cook, and The King loves to eat. And it isn't usually a simple dinner....I look up recipes and make something different every night. Spoiled he is.
Just a couple of weeks ago, the King and I had discussed what we'd have for dinner. He asked if we could have this shrimp dish, which he loves, but it is a total pain in the ass to make. I guess I said OK at the time, but when it came right down to it at the end of a long day, I wanted to beg out of it. I started making shrimp fra diavlo with pasta.
When he came home and looked into the pot, The King's response was: "Having pasta is like having cereal for dinner."
Well folks, the war that this comment started lasted for a long, long time, and that war began with me dumping the half cooked dinner into the sink. The King went out for a sandwich.......But I digress.......
This "too big for his britches" attitude was again illustrated during a conversation today at the pool in Florida, where we were discussing our dinner plans. It was getting late, it had been a long and busy day, and my mother-in-law said "How about hot dogs for dinner tonight?". This one seemingly innocent comment caught the attention of The King.
The King: "Did you say we were going to have hot dogs for dinner? You mean hot dogs will be the meal?"
Mother-in-Law: "Yes. Hot dogs will be the meal."
The King: "How will they be cooked?"
MIL: "On the barbeque. Why?"
The King: "Well, that makes it slightly better, but usually I don't eat hot dogs as the only thing during a meal, but maybe more like a side dish."
MIL: "WHAT? What's the matter with you?"
The King (looking a little sheepish now): "Well, can't we have something else too? Like chicken on the grill? Or something?"
MIL: "Chicken takes too long to cook. No. Hot dogs are quick. We're not having chicken."
The King: "How long does chicken take? Is there some rush for dinner? Is there some kind of a rule that dinner has to be shopped for and cooked in less than thirty minutes or something? I don't get it."
MIL (now laughing, as we all so often laugh with and at The King, who is pretty witty, but a little dumb too): "Fine, maybe we can have chicken too."
We all sat and listened to this convseration, laughing totally hysterically.
We did have both hot dogs and chicken for dinner, which McGuvyer made easier and quicker to cook on the grill by pounding the chicken out with a hammer....not a kitchen mallet, but an actual hammer. McGuvyer rules!
It was a great dinner, after which my father-in-law said:
"When I heard earlier today your mother was thinking of hot dogs for dinner, I thought to myself "Yeah, let's see how that goes over with The King."
The reputation of The King preceeds him.