My kids are a little weird. Okay, maybe more than a little. And…maybe there is something to the theory of genetics. After all, that weirdness comes from their daddy’s side. Alright! Fine! We’re all weird odd strange doolally pleasantly eccentric. Yes, that’s it eccentric, and pleasantly so.
I was confronted by evidence of this, ahem…eccentricity today, while grinding beef. We buy brisket when it goes on sale and grind it. (This brisket was $1.59/lb., while decent ground beef is about $4/lb.). Anyway, I was grinding, and Liam was wrapping 1 lb packages. The boys were moving sheep or something. So, it was Grace’s job to label the packages.
From the first time we packaged home-raised meat for the freezer, Grace started sticking punny, literary, or just silly labels on the packages. They always make sense, but sometimes I have to stop and think. For example, we raise meat rabbits, so I’ve pulled Flopsy, Mopsy, Cottontail, Peter, Bugs, Roger, and Jessica from the freezer.
Today, however, we were just wrapping 1lb. packages of ground beef. Simple right?
It actually took me a second to realize that ‘dirt cow’ translated to ‘ground beef’. I groaned, looked at my smirking daughter, and asked, “Really??” She just grinned and nodded.
The packaging became progressively sillier:
A bit later, when I took the meat out to the deep freezer, my attention was caught by another package.
I stared at this one for a moment, then I had to laugh. It’s a package of neck bones from the last lamb we butchered.
Gosh, my family is weird. But, they’re my kind of weird, and I wouldn’t have them any other way! Until ‘necks time, Gadget’…
