I’m going to make a mint with my new book. I haven’t started it yet, but I know the market is begging for my wisdom.
The name of my book will be: Simple Recipes for Lazy Old Men.
I discovered the opportunity after I recently attempted to do my share around the kitchen.
I get out the recipe book Sherry hid in the bottom drawer under placemats we rarely use. She’s in for a pleasant surprise this evening.
I page through the book, salivating at the colorful pictures of main courses. I’m ready. I turn to page 121 and glance at the ingredients I will need to gather from the refrigerator and cupboards.
What the heck? What are cremini mushrooms, silken tofu or miso paste?
I flip to another page. More mumbo jumbo.
Where are the recipes requiring hamburger? How about egg noodles or plain sugar or milk or peanut butter or hot dogs or fruits and vegetables I can identify?
I return the recipe book to the bottom drawer under the placemats.
Sherry is in for a pleasant surprise. We’re going out to eat this evening.