polish sausage and fountain drink: 1.55

two churros: 2.00

all-you-can-eat samples and indoor room to run around: priceless

Dick said he thinks churros are like fried twinkies, in a good way. This made me remember the halcyon days of my youth, when I ate a chocodile (chocolate- covered twinkie) for lunch every day and never got fat. I also ate Black Cows, which are carmel-on-a-stick treats, covered in chocolate. Those mean boys at school, who just didn’t know how to show they liked me, called me “Cow Hyatt.”

I was feeling nostalgic, and hungry, at Wal-mart the other day, so I bought a box of twinkies. Sally and Susan were flatteringly interested to hear about my childhood, or maybe they just wanted to try a twinkie for the first time. The next day when we picked up Sally and her friend (Penny) from school, Sally raved about the twinkies, and Penny asked, “What’s a twinkie?”

Sally tried to describe the shape. I said, helpfully, that they’re like a train tunnel in shape (with the cream being the train, eh?), and Sally waxed lyrical about the three holes in the bottom where they put the filling in.

Is it a great step for the health of mankind or just plain sad that today’s children have no idea what a twinkie is? For Sally’s birthday dinner she requested macaroni and cheese, and not mom’s homemade gourmet kind, no, she wanted the “orange” kind. From the box.

Then she tells me she prefers store-bought bread to my hand-kneaded whole wheat love-offering for her school sandwiches. This after I labored in 10 degree weather to grind the wheat myself.

But there is hope. I have found a way to get the kids to positively devour s-p-i-n-a-c-h. Even after Sally found out it has spinach in it, she just shrugged and said, “it’s got gross stuff in it, but it still tastes good.” Amazing maturity for a seven-year old. (Certain people — Uncle Sean — could take some inspiration from this).

Dick likes it enough that he actually asked me to post a recipe for it. I don’t know why he couldn’t just ask me to write it down for him, but, anyway, I’ll do my share to spread the good word.

I’m talking, of course, about Green Juice, as my running/babysitting partner Shalece calls it. Speaking of running, I ran my first race, a 5k, this past Saturday. Sally and Susan asked if I was going to win like I used to in Florida. Bless their gullible little hearts. I said of course.

Unfortunately, they didn’t give out medals to everyone this time, so I had only a new shirt to show for it. We ran out near the Great Salt Lake, which apparently stinks really badly in the summer time. Guess there’s an upside to all that snow and ice on the race course.

Here’s a picture of me post-race. Apparently there’s a reason ski masks are so popular with burglars, although this is actually a balaclava. My time was 32:42, close to my goal of 31 minutes — I wanted to make a 10 minute/mile pace. Maybe next time.

Maybe if I ate more s-p-i-n-a-c-h.

Shrek Shake/Green Juice

Ingredients (wash hands first!)

handful of ice cubes

handful or two of fresh spinach (don’t see why you couldn’t use frozen, but fresh sure is pretty)

handful of frozen peach slices or other yellow or green frozen fruit

1-2 frozen bananas

1-2 cups of pineapple juice

1 apple, cubed (golden delicious is great, or granny smith)

Throw all ingredients in a blender and blend. Enjoy.

Keep in mind 1) you can throw in whatever you want, but if you start mixing in red/dark fruits, the color gets muddled and less-appetizing-looking; 2) enjoy responsibly: 5 days in a row can cause problems in the poop/diaper department, especially if your kids aren’t used to quite that much fresh goodness.

So, it looks kinda interesting, but trust me, kids really do like it. See?

First, I hate to brag, but the truth is out now: Spot is a prodigy child. What that kid (15 months, remember) can do with a spoon and fork, not to mention a cup and straw is scary-savant-like.

Second, doesn’t Susan look like Puss-in-Boots from Shrek? Maybe? Maybe she needs big contacts? Maybe I should stop seeing celebrity tie-ins everywhere?

That’s the news from Dick and Jane, where mom makes good bread, dad brings home the bacon, and the children are, indeed, above average.