Last night my EC went to Homemaking Meeting, Personal, Family, Home Enrichment – Relief Society Meeting, which meant I had a free night to mess with my boys. My weapon of choice? Liver.
You must understand that liver is forbidden in our home. 25 years of marriage, and it has never been purchased, cooked or consumed in our house. Why? A long time ago, my EC put forth the edict that liver is organa-non-grata. And, since I am a loving husband, and liver is liver, I have honored that edict. Until yesterday.
The FOMLs had never tasted liver. When I was a kid, liver was once or twice a month, and it wasn’t half bad. My mom would fry up a bunch of bacon and caramelized onions – effectively neutralizing the livery-ness of the dish. Didn’t love it, didn’t hate it. Never puked.
But like any good father, I want my boys to suffer experience the same abuses tastes that I did as a boy. It was actually fun to cook – my youngest and I took a cast-iron pan out to the BBQ so as to not infest the house with liver-oma.
The verdict? Success. Everyone ate their liver. (That is how low the bar for success was set.) Only the youngest made one gagging run for the toilet, but he did not vomit.
Best part? My EC couldn’t smell the liver when she got home. I didn’t need her making a gagging run for the toilet. (Of course, when I wasn’t in the room, one of my sweet boys told her that the liver tasted like “poop”.)
I feel as if I did my part to instill a sense of family heritage. Still waiting for the kids to submit my Father of the Year application.
Obviously your dad is a real man.
Even our dog won’t eat the liver.
My dad loves liver and onions. My mother never made us kids try it and we all still to this day don’t eat it. It’s something my dad likes, and she will cook it for him.
As for me, when I get a turkey and pull out the gizzard and liver and whatnot that is in that bag. I give it to the dog.
I just ran to the bathroom making gagging noises.