That's the Redneck Way

My son texted me this afternoon asking if he could cook dinner for us tonight.

“A night off?” I texted in return.

“Anything for you, Ma.”

So began the night of historical cooking in my kitchen. 

Mike made spaghetti for dinner, and it was a good choice.

As Mike was browning the Italian Sausage a fly began to buzz about the pot. Now, Mike is not the kind of person to take kindly to someone interrupting him, so he waved the fly away. Mr. Fly went away for a few seconds, but was intent on sneaking a piece of meat, so he returned.

Once the meat was cooked, Mike was putting the sauce in the pan when Mr. Fly returned with a vengeance on Mike. After all, the fly just wanted a tiny piece of meat.

Mike was saying things that I can’t type, you know, cussing and stuff. Then Mike disappeared into his bedroom, only to return with his AirSoft Gun. I heard two shots before I heard my once angry son exclaim, “Geez, Ma, did you see how big that fly was? It took two shots to take him out!”

I ran to the kitchen to see what damage had been done, just in time to see Mike mixing the remains of the fly into the sauce.

“Ew! Mike, why did you do that?”

“Protein, a cook is always concerned that he is offering his guests enough protein!”

I have kept this secret for far too long, now the whole family knows, they ate worse than redneck road kill!