Wednesday, September 8 2021
rodneys sandwich, miss piggy, and connors apartment
Dear Journal,
Good morning, everyone. Happy Wednesday. Starting the work week off on a Tuesday really throws things off, doesn't it? But as the your resident Internet day-of-the-week announcer, I'm doing my best to emphasize reality over perception. Let's say it together - Wednesday. Wednesday. Wednesday.
Today's banner image, Rodney donning his ray beezies and flashing his iconic thumb's up, can be today's inspiration. Doesn't he look cool and confident?
Even though Rodney looks like a million bucks wearing his shades, he remains squarely on the fence about actually wearing them out in public.
"Bring them to school, dude," I encouraged. "You'll be like a legend."
"No..." he stuttered, staring out the car window and mauling over the decision to himself.
"What if you just wear them outside?" I asked. "You go outside for school, right? You can just pop 'em on real quick when your class goes out to the playground."
"Actually, you're right," said Rodney. "I can wear them outside!"
But he still didn't go through with it. Marissa tells me that the sunglasses never leave the car, but he puts wears them on the ride over while he listens to his favorite pump up song What's Up Danger.
In fact, in honor of Rodney why don't we make What's Up Danger the official soundtrack of this entry. For the best effect, let this song play while you read on, and of course throw on your own pair of ray beezies if you have them handy.
Sip. What's up, danger? And what's up, faithful readers of the blog? How is your Wednesday going so far? Our family is reaching cruising altitude with our new school centered routines. The only thing that has yet to settle in place is actually getting Rodney to eat the sack lunch we prepared. On the first day of school, Rodney ate everything except for the sandwich. "I just threw it in the garbage," he shrugged. Thinking of Rodney chucking a peanut butter and jelly on fresh homemade bread into the garbage almost made me lunge at Rodney like Ziggy when she sees a squirrel on the window sill, but Marissa talked me down. "He didn't know he had to eat it," she reminded me.
On the second day of school, Rodney came home and quickly admitted that he still didn't eat his sandwich. "I had a hot dog with ketchup, and a chocolate milk," he said. That really left us confused, and we didn't successfully piece together the mystery of Friday lunch until we emailed his teacher. "Rodney didn't have a lunch with him, so we gave him a school lunch," she wrote over email. "He must have forgotten it in his bag."
Clearly, it was going to take some real innovation to get Rodney to actually eat his lunch at school. They say that necessity is the mother of invention, and you could say this necessity gave rise to perhaps the greatest sandwich ever made - the Rodney Style.
Two slices of sourdough bread, crust removed.
Smooth peanut butter on one side. Chunky strawberry jelly on the other.
Butter fried - both sides - then dusted with a little bit of white sugar.
I don't know what lead me to fry a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, but the second I smelled peanut oil rendering out of the peanut butter (further frying the bread), I knew I was onto something special.
The Rodney Style is now available on the Recker Family Cookbook.
"I finished the whole sandwich," said Rodney returning from school yesterday. Success. Rodney definitely won't be getting the sugary fried version of his sandwich every day in his lunch, but maybe the added element of mystery will make him a little more eager to at least open the bag.
Today's lunch, complete with a napkin drawing rendition of Rodney's face when he realizes today is just a normal peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
Marissa and I were all over the place yesterday. I mentioned that Ziggy kept up the night before with reverse sneezing fits, and she seemed to get worse throughout the morning. While she stared at us expectantly curled in a stiff, uncomfortable ball on the couch, Marissa and I debated when we'd take her into the vet. Our own vet couldn't receive her until the next day, and there was even a four hour wait for the emergency clinic.
A four hour wait - even for an emergency? That's a fact that I don't like to think about. Marissa relayed to me that the vet assistant on the phone call chalked it up to all the new pets people bought for themselves over quarantine, "and we just don't have the staff for all these calls yet," she said over the phone.
Luckily, Ziggy seemed to rally on her own. She lunged at window sill squirrels and tore through the living room after her little sister like normal, making quiet and discrete pig snorts to herself. In fact, these pig snorts kind of compliment her big and sassy Miss Piggy personality.
After the work day, Rodney accompanied me on a quick drive downtown. I made a loaf of bread for Connor (partly just because I promised him one long ago, but also because he hung with a pesky staging outage all day). Connor invited us up to check out his new apartment, and being his first time in a real life bachelor pad, Rodney savored the experience. Connor paused his Rocket League match to collect us from the lobby. He had minimal personal possessions, but an undeniably beautiful view of the lake.
"Our house is better than your house," said Rodney.
"Oh I know, I've seen it," said Connor without missing a beat.
We chatted for a bit in his kitchen. Watching Rodney strafe from side to side, I suggestion he hit the bathroom before we leave. He helped himself down the hallway into Connor's bathroom. "I only spilled a bit," said Rodney closing the bathroom door behind him.
Talk about adding insult to injury, right? These kindergarteners are something. Thanks for stopping by, have a great Wednesday everyone.