I Don’t Hate My Husband

I know, right? It’s weird. And if I keep on like this they’ll probably kick me outta the Married Women’s Club. But somehow I must kinda love that funny little fukker. Not in the way I love Grogu/Baby Yoda but in, like real.

Must be.

Else how would you explain this? This shit here!

Yes right, these are cheese-filled Frankfurters in a bacon krust … that fell apart in the frying pan. Cholesterol thru the roof! A seven-nations-army couldn’t move me to eat that! But hubby obviously enjoys it. A lot. 😮 Calls it his American breakfast. Baah. I didn’t tell him in order for this to be real American I should’ve added some eggs sunny side up and a gallon of ketchup or hot sauce. Fortunately he likes neither of those barbarian condiments. Although they wouldn’t cause his imminent heart attack. 😮

Please tell me is it true? Do Americans – at least their males – really eat such stuff? For breakfast? Or is it nothing but a cowboy cliché like the baked beans thing?

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