Left of Center…

I decreed to my father early this morning that I was no longer to be called crazy, but left of center. It had a nice ring to it for us crazy folk. He laughed and laughed and said it was very witty. He had a care package for me to pick up was the reason I was over there. He had forgotten to tell me last night that he had cooked supper before our trip to the grocery store.

“I made bobby burgers early last night,” he had told me previously on the phone and I hurried over there for the leftovers which he readily offered. 

I adore my father’s bobby burgers. Luckily, my father is a feeder like Charlie. They both take much satisfaction out of making you happy with food. They love for you to brag on their efforts and cooking as well.

Bobby burgers are more commonly known as Hunt’s Manwiches except my father makes the sauce from scratch instead of opening a can. It makes a world of difference.

I got home and warmed up the meat sauce in the microwave and got out some hamburger buns dad sent with me. I ate five little bobby burgers and Maggie had two. They were savored with zest and were absolutely delicious.