My annual feast of feasts was upon us.
Micah invited one lucky girl to help him out while I carted the boys to and from a birthday party.
I told her to get some clothes on, and look at this little get-up she chose.
Coverall PJ’s with Sunday shoes.
Nice look, but we made her change.
She made it into more PJ’s, and went to work.
Cleaning the beef tenderloin is a gruesome job.
But somebody has to do it if I am going to bite into meat without any worry at all what the bite entails.
Micah really put her to work, and she was double-fisting it with a double chin growl and all.
It was a solid hour of work, but I’ll tell you that the next day as I ate, there was not one speck of anything gross on that meat.
(Disclaimer: these little grubby hands were cleaned prior to the job.)
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