Somewhere on our journey to the Special Olympics, I think we are in Indiana, Awkward Dad decides that we all need a snack. Even the Awkward-Mobile has been riding E for awhile, so we pull into a gas station. We all troop in and then something crazy happens. Super Toddler, who has been convinced that our home toilet is going to eat him for about 2 years, decides that he wants to start potty training, for reals. On a toilet at a gas station in Indiana. The less said about that battle the better, really, but we are all very proud of him.
After that, the Super boys start begging for Skittles and M&Ms, and Awkward Dad, elated with Super Toddler's progress, is inclined to indulge them. But Super Baby has her eyes on a dearer prize; she is lovingly pawing at the glass covering the paltry collection of cold food that this gas station houses, namely the hot dogs that she sees to the right of some scary looking cheese and to the left of a couple Lunchables that seem to have expired sometime last year.
Long-term Readers will be familiar with Super Baby's affinity for all things meaty. OK, really most food-things in general, but especially sausage in all its many forms. She loves hot dogs, bratwursts, pretty much any tubular and cured meat. Natural casing, non-natural casing, fancy, all-Beef, unknown origin, with mustard, plain, bunless; she isn't too picky. When Babcia (Awkward Dad's mother) visits, she brings traditional kabanosy (Super Baby's favorite), which Babcia claims means "little nose sausage" and no, that does not bear thinking about too hard. However, did that picture remind you of anything? (Yes, there is a picture behind that kabanosy link, try it out! Unless, of course, you are a vegetarian.) Kinda looks like a Slim Jim, doesn't it?
Well, as Awkward Dad is steering Super Baby away from the cooler case and toward the candy aisle, while she is kicking and screaming, he appears to have a light-bulb moment right there in front of the Swedish fish. He lets her plop down on the ground for me to deal with and goes 2 aisles over to the Slurpee machine. Well, specifically to the left of the Slurpee (or generic-non-7-11-branded-Slurpee-equivalent machine), to a huge and slightly daunting Slim Jim display. But Awkward Dad is Polish and knows his way around cured meat (that sounds insulting and vaguely dirty and is not intended to be either), so he quickly assembles an assortment and meets us, with his meats (haha!), by the register. The end result of all of this is a completely peaceful journey into Illinois and these stunning pictures of a battle in process:
I would say that the victor of this battle is pretty clear, wouldn't you?
Off to find a snack of the not-cased-and-cured-meat variety, catch you all super soon with more special tales of Special Olympics! Well, that, and the feasting that we did to, from, and during it! OK. OK. Mostly the feasting! See ya soon!