There’s a story floating around about Mike’s and my first Valentine’s Day, where I marinated steaks with oil and seasoning for broiling and then managed to fill the entire one bedroom apartment with smoke. Something was dripping I guess and the oven was not happy about it. The steaks turned out great but we had to eat them out on the abnormally wide window sills, so as not to suffocate while chewing.

Well, tonight we had an exciting dinner experience that took me back to that day. We were cooking some awesome pepper bacon in the oven (bakin’ bacon, if you will) and one of the pans we used did not have sides to it. So the grease from the bacon drizzled off and down into the oven. Like our first oven, this one didn’t like that sort of thing either. Our kitchen quickly filled with smoke. Luke was in his highchair, already partaking in his meal. Having some concern for his son, Mike had to think fast. In a moment of brilliance, he wheeled his son (still in the highchair) out the side door, down the step, and into the backyard. Then he brought his BLT sammiches outside, stood next to the grill, and happily ate them. I stood at the door, breathed in the fresh air through the screen, and ate my sammiches happily. It was the weirdest family dinner ever.