sunday, sunday

(anyone else have that tune running thru their heads?)

I woke up Sunday morning with a horrible hankering for a fried peanut butter sannich. My dad is 100% pure Kentucky hillbilly, raised in the deep South where frying food is an art form. When we were little, he would often wake up early on Sunday mornings and prepare a huge breakfast- fried eggs, fried bologna, fried hash browns from scratch, and sometimes fried grits. So yummy and so bad for your heart! LOL

Fried peanut butter sanniches were supposedly a favorite of Elvis'....tho I hear he liked his with tomatoes. Our household favorite includes bananas and chocolate chips. Here's a little tutorial for those who weren't blessed with a Southerner for a relative:

spread peanut butter on two slices of white bread


add thinly sliced bananas and a handful of mini chocolate chips


assemble the sannich, spread butter on the outsides and toast in a hot fry pan,
3-4 minutes per side or till nicely browned and the inner ingredients are melty


serve with a glass of ice cold milk
YUM

After we all gorged ourselves on the fried PB sanniches, it was off to the park for some family time at the hockey rink. Monkey Boy ran around with his new Chuck Taylors on and doing a pretty darned good job of hitting the hockey puck. Believe it or not, I used to be a decent hockey player myself. In fact I played while I was pregnant with Little Man till I was nearly five months along. We always joked that LM would be a natural at hockey because he would have picked it up thru osmosis. But it looks like like Monkey Boy got more of the hockey gene than LM:

(click on this one and check out MB in the background- what a game face!)

It felt soooo good to be back on my skates; I haven't skated since before MB was born- nearly two and half years ago! Luckily the muscles remember even if the reflexes are slow and I managed not to fall on my bum or stab myself with my hockey stick. My goal is to play at least once a week for a couple of hours. Hopefully that will get rid of this last eight pounds of baby flab and tone me up a little.