Yesterday I told Patrick that I was going to make something very special and rather traditional on account of American Thanksgiving. I assured him the meal would be not be from one of the vintage Thanksgiving recipes, so he was fairly pumped. Correction: VERY pumped.
He knew something weird was up when he arrived home and I was playing jazz music.
(This is only the tip of the iceberg of how funny and clever I think I am. It's sickening, really.)
Patrick enjoyed it, sort of.
"Okay, Okay ... so what are we really having for dinner?" he said after indulging in my silliness for about a minute.
"This is it. I didn't make anything else," I said.
"Are you kidding me? This isn't a real meal."
"Patrick - be grateful. It's American Thanksgiving and I clearly slaved all day to make this," said Mrs. Laugh Riot.
I was too busy enjoying my shit-eating grin to take a picture of his reaction. He refused to "recreate" his expression, but this is pretty much exactly what he looked like:
And then, through the magic of MS Paint, I can show you what Peppermint Patrick did immediately after that: