Okay, raise your hand if you attempted to make your own Bacon Explosion. (raises hand) Hmm? Who else? Come on, I know it wasn’t just me. Ok, technically it was Mr. K who did the crafting but we’re married, so 50% Rule applies. Yesterday afternoon we left the house to go run a few errands. I dropped Mr. K off to get his hair cut and went to the drugstore, picked up some bagels and some mail and came back to pick him up. As soon as he got in the car, he instructed me to drive to the grocery store because he had decided to make Bacon Explosion. (make ‘a’ Bacon Explosion? make ‘the’ Bacon Explosion? whatevs..) We went to the store, he got what he needed and we came back home, whereby he started assembling the meats.
Now, I’m not sure exactly what happened after this. I saw a very serious looking mass of meat being put together and then it was whisked outside to be cooked. After a while, the meat returned, however it was heavily guarded by my husband’s shoulder, back and whatever body part he could put between me and that meat. Okay, fine. I returned to the living room and waited. When he emerged from the kitchen several minutes later, he had a sheepish grin on his face and a plate full of bacon and sausage shrapnel.
Me: what happened?
Him: well, it kinda caught fire.
Me: oh. (poking it a bit)
Him: want some?
Us: (burst out laughing)
So. Attempt #1, not so good but good try nonetheless. This morning I offered up the story during Facebook Confessional and unknowingly prompted him to set about correcting his earlier mistakes. About an hour after telling some friends about it, my husband turns to me and says, “I have enough left over to do another one. A mini one. What do you think?” And off he went. (Might I add how absolutely wonderful it is to be married to a man who is motivated by bacon. Don’t hate.)
And so, dear readers, I present to you, Bacon Explosion Redux.
M raises a good question……I have no idea how to eat this mutha.