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Tuesday, September 3, 2013

How to bond with your teenagers… Pinky style!

                               Hagar (right) : This is going on her damn blog I just know it!

Besieged with overwhelming feelings of parental negligence after the sentimental weeping in last night’s post I felt it was necessary to gather the progeny together. 

There is only one way to assure full attendance at such a ceremony.


Of course Jonah would be absent as he’s currently living in Brisvegas completing his degree... however there were still four of my offspring open to meaty inducement.

Casually bandying the restaurant name ... 
HOG'S BREATH, around last night stirred the familial pot and I successfully managed to amass five favourable responses (including Scotto, who loves a good chow down on animal flesh at the best of times).

Sadly, there was a late scratching.

Padraic, despite my repeated text messages failed to show up in time and was directed towards the frozen pizza in the freezer but… Thaddeus, Hagar and Lulu were all keen to avail themselves of the carnivorous delights on offer.

“What’s the catch?” asked twenty-three year old Thaddeus, when I sent him a textual invitation.

“Nothing …” I replied, puzzled that he would think there was a catch??? Just because I invite him over for spaghetti every Wednesday night so that I can entice him to pick his sister up from her netball game at 9 o’clock… sheesh!

We sat down to order. 

Iron deficient Uni student Thaddeus, naturally ordered the MEGACUT! 

Hagar, a protein protagonist since the age of six months ordered a traditional cut steak with mushroom sauce.

(You know how a baby’s first solid food should be egg custard or the like? After six months of being exclusively breast-fed, Hagar stared so longingly at a medium rare steak at a barbeque we were attending I felt sorry for him. The voracious six month old Hagar sucked every ounce of juice out of a hunk of that steak and never looked back. He sat there in his high chair gnawing on his lump of bloodied flesh like a baby wolf.)

Lulu, despite spending a considerable amount of time texting, enjoyed an equally meaty burger whilst Scotto, ripped into a set of baby back ribs with the gusto of Fred Flintstone at a Water Buffalo lodge meeting.

Ah, you know what they say… feed the man meat!
AND… when we arrived home... there was no washing up!