So we have begun our excessive Mayhew/Harbin/Mayhew family reunion in the Smokey Mountains and we are worse than ever. Really.
We join Noah and his friends for lunch at Smokey’s on the University of Tennessee campus and there it is. the Mac Daddy. Pulled pork, mac and cheese, Cheddar cheese and caramelized onions. In one sandwich. This is wrong on so many levels, but it get’s worse when the ad tempts you to try it with Tater Tots on the side. I do not try it because I know what’s ahead of me once Bunny (my mother-in-law), Tammy (my daughter-in-law) and I get to the cabin.
Here it is. The refrigerator. Stocked for a three-day visit. We have all the basic food groups covered. Jalapeno Poppers? Check. Bagel Bites? Check. Shrimp wrapped in Pepper Jack Cheese and Bacon? Check. Loaded Potato Skins? Check. Box wine? Check, check and check. We’re all set for wintering over. If only we could.
We eat a vat of pot stickers before spaghetti, meat sauce and garlic bread for supper. Mini chocolate eclairs for dessert. This morning I can’t contemplate food. However, I am in need of pajamas since I am entering my dotage (a period of senile decay marked by a decline of mental poise and alertness) and on my way to find some at the Belk’s I pass a Krystal’s. They have a new item.
It’s the Mo Joe, a Sloppy Joe covered in cheese and topped with crispy onion bits. I realize I am suddenly starving and must have one immediately. Of course, I prudently share it with Mark so I can deny later that I ate the whole entire thing. However, I did not share very much. It was delicious and wrong on so many levels.
So let’s just look ahead. Tonight is our Thanksgiving. We will be having twice-baked potatoes, a green bean casserole that involves both cream of celery soap and sour cream, stuffing, homemade pumpkin pie, gravy and, oh yes, turkey. Tomorrow is football snack day. That’s where Tammy just shines. She keeps it coming all day long and actually watching football is not a requirement to enjoy the snacks.
Wrong on so many levels.