“My husband pounds his meat in the kitchen.”

Yes, I actually said that to someone, out loud, in public, without shame. My husband and I were standing by the meat case in Scott’s, chatting with his boss’s wife about chicken breasts. She mentioned that she prefers to buy the chicken strips since she has small children and chicken breasts tend to be too large for them. My husband agreed with her, but said that he likes to make Chicken Marsala with breasts. So, he pounds them flat. That’s when I blurted out, “My husband pounds his meat in the kitchen.”

I instantly knew that I had made her uncomfortable, as I do this regularly. I don’t regularly make HER uncomfortable, just people in general. So, she made her way down an aisle, and my husband and I giggled like adolescents next to the meat case. We laughed about it the rest of the day.

Some people tell me that I have no filter. I think it goes beyond that. I think that a small part of my brain is controlled by some sort of mischievous hybrid creature, part Sophia from the Golden Girls and part 15 year-old boy. This part of the brain takes over suddenly, and throws out some socially awkward, embarrassing statement. Then, it sits back and laughs while I stand there with “Did I say that out loud?” going through my head. I can share a couple of examples with you.

A few years ago, my husband and I hosted an impromptu cocktail party at our house. Some acquaintances were over, drinking and chatting. Things were going well until one of them, a really strange woman (not me), insulted me. I don’t remember what she said exactly, but it involved what she imagined my sexual preferences to be. So, I said, “Well, at least I can still sit on bar stools.” Let me explain. This woman had given birth to five children, naturally. Think about it. Judging by her husband’s face when I said it, he got it. Instantly.

Last year, a beautiful orange cat came into our yard, and decided to come into our house. Our neighbor thought he might belong to a lady down the street. Lady is my kind way of saying stupid bitch. So, I went down the street and rang her doorbell that morning. Here is the conversation:

Me: Is your cat missing? I found an orange cat, and he’s in my bathroom right now.

Lady: I don’t know. He’s not home yet.

Me: What do you mean?

Lady: He likes to stay outside all night.

Me: I can’t believe you would just leave a cat out all night. That’s not safe.

Lady: Well, I take him to the vet, and he gets his shots.

Me: Does your vet also make him his own little suit of armor to protect him from being crushed by a car or eaten by another animal?

At this point, two things happened. She looked like she was going to hit me, and her orange cat walked up to the porch. At which point she said, “That’s my cat. Is this the cat that is in your bathroom?”

I wanted to reply with, “Yes. He is astral projecting himself so you can save him.” I didn’t. I just said, “no,” and walked away. See. Sometimes I have a filter.

Morris is sitting right next to me, and he has not been outside since he first came into our yard. He does not own a suit of armor, or have a need for one. I’m glad I didn’t have to give him to that moron.

In other news, my husband won’t be pounding his meat tonight. He’s making shrimp risotto instead. Get your mind out of the gutter.

Morris has been inside for four years now.
Morris has been inside for four years now.

15 thoughts on ““My husband pounds his meat in the kitchen.”

  1. Filters are overrated. Orange cats are overrated. Chicken Marsala, no matter the perverted rules of YOUR kitchen, is not overrated. Please mail me some. While you’re at it, also send the orange cat – I have recently discovered mice in my basement. Your posts always cause me to laugh out loud. I won’t be able to go to the meat counter without chuckling. Now you’ve done it.

    1. But my orange kitty loves me so much that he drools on me. You just don’t get that kind of love from any fella. 🙂 With Marsala, you have to pound the fuck out of it. I can tell when Chris hasn’t pounded hard enough. Now we know what goes on in the kitchen of every Italian restaurant.

  2. I also pound my meat in the kitchen! It makes them easier to cook!

    And Morris sounds awesome! Good for you for having a filter….and then lying through your teeth. He’s much happier inside for sure!

  3. Morris is so freakin’ adorable – I’ve been itching for a cat lately but I’m going to hold off for now. 🙂 I will resist the urge! I always wonder how some people are allowed to have pets but then you think about how some folks are permitted to have kids and then, it kinda loops you to a question mark that has no answer. Happy Friday Lisa! -Iva

  4. Whenever my husband and I see dead cats in the road, we always say “indoor kitties” because we are indoor cat folks as well. Of course, that ended up extending to all roadkill. “Indoor raccoons.” “Indoor possum.” “Indoor deer.”

    1. If I had my way, every animal would live inside. Someday, I want to start a huge indoor cat sanctuary and call it the Pussy Ranch. My son tells me that I may get different clients than I want.

  5. Oh, Lisa! You’re “non”filter cracks me up! I also suffer from a serious case of foot-in-mouth disease. But I think yours is WAY funnier! And I am really glad your husband has enough control to not have to pound his meat EVERY night…

  6. My lack of filter has caused my mom to lament that I have some strange form of Tourette’s. I can make any awkward situation more so, just by opening my mouth. Sometimes it’s a defense mechanism, sometimes, I just can’t stop it. I do wish that I hadn’t advised my sister to buy American condoms before her trip to Europe, since the sheepskin over there is just not as secure…while my dad was taking a big gulp of beer. It took awhile to clear his sinuses.

    1. HA! I can just picture your dad. Still, that was advice your sister needed.

      My husband tells me that I have a PhD in Straight Forward.

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