Heart-breaker, love taker, sandwich maker don't you mess around with me...

Listen, married people don't mean to let themselves go.  Sometimes it just happens, and I now have a theory why.  It's the kitchen swag.  Suddenly I have all these new food-related toys that I have to try out.

I have brewed maybe 5 pots of coffee since we moved into our new house.  That is, before the new coffee maker.  I usually drink enough coffee at work to never want any here.  The second I get a good coffee maker, I pray I can talk guests into coffee just to make some.  After the tailgate challenge, Jason and I picked up some doughnuts at Tim Hortons (no I'm not still pretending to be Canadian anymore...much).  The second I got home and Pat showed up, I was asking everyone if they wanted coffee.  My wife had a half a cup, and I drank the rest of that pot.  I've brewed 3 pots in the last 2 days.  It's becoming a problem.

We also got a stone pizza pan cooky thing.  So I went nuts with that twice.

Brenchos Pizza:  Sorry, we don't deliver

Then there's that omelette flippy pan thing, which made us clean out a carton of eggs in a week (which never happens, except when I was taught how to make the "Jeff breakfast," but that's another story all together...).

...I had to beat them to death with their own shoes.

Anyway, I can't even try justify that it was healthy, but at least there were green peppers in there.

The one that really is the problem, though....the sandwich maker

"I wish I knew how to quit you"

 The thing makes a perfect sandwich.  I've tried it several times.  People tell me the novelty of having one will wear off, but I don't believe them.  They underestimate my sandwich love, and the sandwich love of my wife.  I'm surprised we've even bothered to unplug it at this point.  It really has been used that much.  However, the madness needs to stop (right?).  Man does not live on fillings (mostly American cheese) hermetically sealed in bread alone...

Lord help us when I finally get some oil in that deep fryer...

Take us out Detroit Grand Pubahs



P.S. - Don't lecture me about how the love taker part comes last and it's the dream maker part in the middle on that Pat Benatar song.  I know.  It just didn't work for my title without the switcheroo.