Joey, Joey, Joey

This morning I got up earlier than I have gotten up in recent years (5:15 a.m.) so that I could go to Baylor and work out with Laura.  Every single red light in the city of Dallas seems to have it out for me.  I was late.

After my workout (from which I am extremely sore because I'm further out of shape than I remembered being) it was quite a bit earlier than I expected, just after 7:00, and I began feeling sorry for Joey who had planned to ride his bike in to work.  It was only 35 degrees outside after all. 

"Do you want me to come get you?"  I asked Joey as I drove down Washington on my way to pick him up.

"YES!"  He said, "It's so cold out there!  I wasn't sure how I was going to make it to school."

So I zipped up the road, not hitting any red lights - funny how that works, and called Joey to ask, "Can you grab me an Izze when you come out?"  He said sure, no problem, and he'd be out in a few minutes.  When Joey got to the car and we zipped off down the street to school...

"Where's my Izze?"  I asked, looking in the backseat by Joey's backpack.

He wilted.  "It's in the fridge!"

I wilted.

"You can have a Sprite with lime instead!"  He suggested, trying to spin the situation.

"I'll try...maybe...." I pouted, secretly intending to do just that.

Poor Joey.  But at least my Izze will be cold when I go home tonight!  Yummy.  And I'll need something yummy, too, because I'm making the sickest thing for dinner tonight: Pineapple Chicken Bake.  Grody.  But when I read the recipe title to Joey hoping for a "Sick, who invented that recipe" comment I got a "WOW, that sounds awesome, when are you making it!"

So I'm making it tonight.  Hopefully Joey likes it and it reheats well, because I can pretty much guarantee you that I won't be eating much of it at all.  Fruit and meat do not go together.  Ever.