Would you care to taste my weiner's savory sauce?

You know how sometimes people you've just met'll ask you a question, and you don't want to answer because you know you are about to look like a huge asshole? It happens to me a lot.

There's a particular scenario, though, in which I get this sick pleasure out of witnessing my husband squirm because he's about to look like a huge asshole and I love watching him squirm because he knows it's about to occur, and I know it's about to occur, and it's a magical moment. It always happens when some new acquaintance inquires of my husband, "Do you have a dog?" This particular question doesn't so much completely bring the heat, because sometimes upon being asked, he'll mumble, "yeah," and then sprint off as though his water just broke, thusly avoiding any further line of questioning.

But, the real discomposure ensues when the new acquaintance manages to fire in the next inquiry of my spouse before his evasion. When he is asked, "What kind of dog do you have?", it is comedy gold watching him, the man who would respond to each and every question ever asked of him with "two chicks at the same time" if he were so able, has to go, "I have a seven pound miniature dachshund." It's so awesome, because there are always four sentences after this about how his wife made him do it or his wife sucks or his seven pound weiner is almost as big as the one in his pants. But, nonetheless, despite his lunge for an explanation (or at least a distraction), one can witness his face redden, or behold the inevitable wince that occurs when he admits he has a "girly" dog. This situation is so golden; however, it gets even better if the acquaintance manages to spit out (between snickers) the follow up question: "What's his name?" For, when my husband gets to reveal that his dog's name is "Timmy," the look on his face is priceless.

They actually make quite a team. Timmy is approximately seventy two inches shorter than my husband, and weighs, like, thirty three or so times less. (In my head) they're like best friends, and, you know, I always feel like best friends should dress alike. I mainly think this because I know what an asshole move it is to have your weiner dog wearing a sweatshirt (or a UGA tee, or a polo, or a smoking jacket, or an Elvis costume, or what have you). They have a lot in common besides their taste in clothing. Timmy pees on the floor when he get's excited; I have been known to accidentally step into a husbandish middle of the night target misfire on an occasion or six. Timmy seems to have a perpetual itch where his nuts once resided; no one ever accused my husband of malfunctioning scratching fingers. Anyway, I haven't yet gotten around to the point of this entire post.

Timmy's a little brat who eats cat turds pretty frequently, but, sometimes I feel sorry for him for having this new baby move in on his turf, thus being robbed of 94% of all attention he ever received prior to her invasion. So, yesterday I was at Target, and I so happened to come across an amazing product: Iams Savory Sauce® Sizzlin' Bacon Flavor. OMG, this sheet is amazing. I poured some over Timmy's nasty pile of dry rubbish, and he ate each and every morsel in like 5.5 seconds, and then licked each and every bon appetit bite from his fingers. The stuff smells delicious. The ingredients seem better than 88% of the crap we ingest on a daily basis (when is the last time we ate a carrot or the pulp of a freakin beet in my house? I cannot produce the last time!). So, this caused a reallly bright idea to pop into my head. I'm not a cook. At all. But, if I can produce results with half the jubilation Timmy experienced, I think I may have found the new secret ingredient for every meal in my future. Anyway, I'm always looking for a new way to "add essential vitamins, minerals and antioxidants to a complete and balanced meal." I'm still mulling it around. I don't know. But, if I catch a wild hair (hare?) and decide to actually cook a meal tomorrow, I'll let you know the results of whateverthehell'sinthefreezer coated in Timmy's special sauce. And, you know what? If it's good enough for his best friend, how bad could my husband possibly think it is? I'll keep you posted.

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