Cajun Tales

WARNING: if you are Cajun or are related to a Cajun, you should leave now. You WILL NOT appreciate the content of this blog. To everyone else: this is written from the perspective of a Northerner who has been temporarily transplanted into bayou country. Somebody help me; I'm lost!

Saturday

It just never ends

THIS time it was my friend who called and said she was taking her kids out to eat and did I want to join them.

The order was pretty simple: three kids grilled cheese dinners, one chicken strips dinner, one cactus chicken dinner, and one dinner salad with a side of steamed vegetables.

First of all: apparently, "dinner salad" is code for "I'm too embarassed to eat in front of these people, so please send two pieces of lettuce and a slice of tomato." Because that's all I got.

Secondly: if I ordered a dinner salad as my DINNER, why would you think I would want it twenty minutes before everyone else gets their dinner?

Thirdly: in the North, we recognize that the healthiness of steamed veggies is negated by serving them up in a puddle o' butter.

Fourthly: a grilled cheese sandwich is only made such by GRILLING the bread. Slapping a slice of cheese in a hamburger bun and nuking it to warm the cheese is not even in the same ballpark as a grilled cheese sandwich.

Fifthly: that chicken strip still has some tail feathers attached. You couldn't notice that?!

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