We’ll be the first to admit we were a little late to the kale party. It was just hard to get us too worked up over an ingredient that isn’t traditionally breaded, fried and dipped in gravy and/or Ranch dressing.
Like Kimmy Gibbler popping in to offer some unsolicited comedic relief, summer is knocking on the door. (If you live in Dallas, like us, it’s here, and then we get what feels like one month of bulking weather, then it’s back again.)
So, this Sunday is the big game! Unfortunately, outside of tear-jerking commercials and the occasional Janet Jackson nip, this means usually less than nothing to us. I mean, what is a Seahawk?
I am not a morning person. Throughout the week, I begin my days very slowly and gracelessly by getting out of bed and channeling Helen Keller as I make my way to the coffee pot — both eyes crusted shut — trying not to step on a dog, cat or husband.