Yesterday we went out to the In-laws for dinner. We were celebrating Grandpa Dave's birthday and that meant homemade chicken fried steak with white grave and mashed potatoes. I know. I think I just had a mild heart attack.
Anyway, Mom and Grandma brought out the steaks to flatten and then flour. They made a lot, but that isn't unusual. They always seem to cook as if they are feeding an army. Grandma gets out one of her brand new square skillet and begins to pound the meat into submission. My husband and I are hanging out in the kitchen also. And as my mother-in-law and her mother discuss how hard it is to beat meat I cannot, CANNOT, help but slide my gaze over to my husband. He and I have been together long enough that I don't even need to say anything. He automatically starts shaking his head because he hates (i.e. loves) that his wife has such a dirty mind. We start to snicker quietly and then his Grandma says 'I know what yous twos (she's a yank) are thinking over there!'
My husband throws me under the bus straight away saying that it was all me. And I try to recover and act all indignant that he would blame it on me when it was all him. Ok, so I was lying but it was all in fun. Jeremy was laughing, I was laughing, Jeremy's Grandma was laughing at me because I was blushing.
Later my MIL made a comment, in full on suggestive mode, that she wasn't as good as her mom at beating meat. And Grandma, without missing a beat, says 'Well, I've had more practice'.