The taste of victory

If you have a heart condition, diabetes, or take cholesterol medication, stop reading now.

OK, everyone else: You were warned.

Last week, in the spirit of Super Bowl XLIII, Samson and I made a friendly wager on the outcome of the game. [Sidenote: For a nation with a collectively dwindling interest in foreign languages, why does the NFL make us all remember how to use Roman numerals every winter?]

With the big game approaching, I asked Samson whether he wanted the Pittsburgh Steelers or the Arizona Cardinals to win. Because much of our life these days seems to revolve around the events from a galaxy far, far away, Samson picked Arizona. Why, you ask.

Because the Steelers made him think of bad guys (i.e., people who steal, not the blue collar pride of western PA). From the bad guys link it was just a degree of separation connecting them to these guys. And nobody wants them to win.

So the bet was set. It took a while to figure out what the stakes would be, but we settled on the loser having to make the winner a "victory dinner" the following Saturday night.

To be perfectly frank: I was kind of hoping to lose. Not out of any animus toward Pittsburgh (although it would be funny to see Tuskens in the huddle), but because I thought it would be fun to let Samson revel in winning a bet by dictating the terms of dinner.

And but for that last minute catch by Santonio Holmes, he would have gotten the chance. That said, I never really planned to have him make me dinner. And good thing, too. When I woke him up last Monday to inform him that I'd won the bet, he offered to make me "boogies and poo."

I politely declined. His second choice was a little more all-American: mini cheeseburgers, hot dogs, french fries, and milk shakes.

So on Saturday night, I fired up the barbecue, and Vicki and Samson made little burger patties. Jane "helped" with the milk shakes. [Fun parenting tip: Toddlers and blenders are not a natural combination. Still, Jane liked pushing the "pulse" button. Perhaps a little too much.]

All in all, it was fantastic. And probably double the caloric intake either Vicki or I needed for the week. But delicious nonetheless.