February 3, 2012

Superbowl and the Schnitzelbank

Sometimes, things just don't seem right.  Or sound right.  It doesn't mean the thing doesn't have merit.  Just that it is kinda-off if you know what I mean.  For example, I was recounting to Color Girl the blissful weekend that had just been mine. All of my men-folk were gone, you see.  Sons at school; husband gone fishing.  Me alone, gorging on solitude and closet-cleaning-outing and past episodes of Downton Abbey ... and, of course, eating whatever I wanted for dinner.




On Saturday, I told her, I had a can of smoked oysters, and muesli mixed with Greek yogurt  for my repast.  She acknowledged that I had obviously enjoyed it, but didn't sound as if it would have been her first choice.  (Or second, for that matter.)  After some clarification... that the smoked oysters had NOT been mixed in ALONG with the yogurt and muesli, she sounded somewhat less repulsed by my choice; still, I could tell it just didn't sound right to her. 






Last week was my Dad's 87th birthday. L'il Sis was driving him around for a day of birthday adventure, and in the course of their traveling, my Dad asked her how old he was.  (Why is it that the older we get, the more difficult it is to remember our age...)  Anyhow, she told him he was 87, to which he responded with a resounding denial that that was the case.  She asked him how old he THOUGHT he was, to which he responded with an emphatic "73!" 


After working through the math, he grudgingly acknowledged the number, but  ended the discussion with  "well, that just doesn't SOUND right".  True that,  I am thinking, true that.


Dad's day of birthday fun included a meal at a local German institution-of-a-restaurant...the Schnitzelbank.  German fare for this uber-German birthday boy.




Given that the entirety of Indiana is consumed with Super Bowl fever, birthday fun wasn't the only thing on tap (along with the German beer) at the Schnitzelbank.  My mom was downright giddy at the prospect of voting for the Schnitzelbank bratwurst as HER favorite contender in the Indiana Superbowl 46 Sandwich Playoffs. (Click here to join the fun and vote Bratwurst!)  




After all votes were cast, L'il Sis took the tired birthday boy home...a person can handle only so much excitement after all.  She did, however, take the time to read a flyer about more impending fun at the Schnitzelbank: 


A Spay-ghetti and (No) meatball fundraiser being held this weekend by the local Humane Society. 


Good times.  Good times. 



HAPPY SUPER BOWL! EVERYONE









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