Over the weekend, it wasn't: "What's for dinner?", it was "Where is dinner?"
Randy spent one day smoking baby back ribs.
The rib tips always get done before the 'real' ribs.
Randy takes the rib tips off the smoker, puts them on the kitchen counter, and then comes downstairs where I was doing something important.
A couple minutes later, I hear Roxy squeaking.
Nothing odd there, we walk, do our business and come home.
Randy asks me how I liked the rib tips.
I didn't eat them.
There is only a small piece left.
He thinks I am kidding.
We look at Roxy.
She doesn't look guilty.
There are no outward signs that she has sniped the rib tips from the counter.