Where's the beef? Part 1

What Now?

There is a conspiracy going on in my house. I don't know exactly when it started, and I'm not sure how long it is going to last, but it is something that will affect me in a deep and possibly disturbing way. My wife, the family chef and buyer of food products, is slowly but surely working meat out of our family diet. MEAT MAN...MEAT I SAY! A few days ago it was taco night at our household...a weekly tradition loved by myself and our kids. My wife worked in the kitchen preparing the meal while my girls and I set the table. We all sat down as my wife brought out all the fixings....taco shells, black beans, lettuce, diced tomatoes, avocados, cheese, sour cream and the taco meat..."um, what is wrong with the taco meat?" I asked. "Nothing, why?" she replied. "Well, it seems to be a different color than I remember." I say, trying real hard to to have any critical tone in my voice whatsoever...remember, she is the sole provider of eatable meals in our house so I don't want to rock that boat. "It's a little different, that's all" came her response. OK, no biggie I guess...and I join the rest of the crew and load up a couple of nice, nice tacos. After a couple of bites I glance at my wife and she is looking around at us with a very sheepish look, almost like she knew something and was trying to see if anybody else would figure it out. Our eyes meet and she asks "so, how do you like your tacos?" Now I am growing suspicious....I mean, she knows I love tacos so why ask. And that look...something is up. "So what makes this taco meat different from before?" I ask in a very probing way. "Just a different brand I guess." she says. Hmmm, what is my next move. Ah ha..."oh, looks like I need a little more water.....I'll be right back." As I head to the kitchen to refill my glass, I can feel her stare on the back of my neck like a hot poker. I stroll by her dinner prep area and see it, stop in my tracks, pick it up and turn around to look back at my wife. In my hand is a box for "tofu taco filling", on my face is a look that can only be described as a giant WTF. I am about to blow the lid off my wife's little trickery when she says, a little louder than normal "so girls, how do YOU like your tacos?" "Great!", "Love them!" Then I get the look from her that can best be described as "DON'T OPEN YOUR DUMB PIE HOLE!" I drop the box back on the counter top, get my water, return to my seat and continue to eat my tacos. To be honest, they are pretty damn good. I don't know what her game is...but after we put the kids to bed I am sure as hell going to find out....

Peace Out Dads!