Bacon: The Wonder Meat

I love bacon, I truly do.

My husband and I used to drive six hours to visit one of our Uncles knowing damn good and well at the end of those six long hours, we'd have the best bacon waiting for us. The family jokes about it, because I could easily sit down and put away a whole slab myself if I wasn't paying any attention to manners. But even still, after everyone would be stuffed on breakfast, I would have saved some room in hopes of hearing, "There's a few pieces of bacon left, does anyone want them?" in which I would chime in without a pause, "Me!"

Those relatives have since moved half across the country, so we don't get that yummy bacon any more. Sadly.

I think my daughter inherited my love of bacon though.

The first time she crawled up stairs on her own, she was on the hot pursuit of bacon she smelled. She stopped from playing, sniffed the air toward the kitchen, hoisted up that big diaper butt of hers and headed for the stairs. She crawled up them with no hesitation and made a mad crawling dash to the stove, pulling herself up to a standing position only to stare at the edge of the pan that was cooking up some delicious bacon.

That was the first sign.

Then today, I was trying to get some dishes washed, but seeing as how she's become mobile, her separation anxiety has really set in. So if myself or my husband aren't holding her, she has a fit. Even if I'm two feet away and making faces at her. I guess in all fairness, it isn't like this all the time, but this morning it was.

I tried a cracker to soothe her. That didn't work. I tried a graham cracker cookie. Didn't work. I tried her bottle. Sippy cup. A banana. I tried luring the dog into the kitchen, as he's usually a great distraction. None of that worked.

On another tangent in my mind, I was thinking about what I would cook for dinner. I open up the freezer and take out some bacon to thaw so I could make sandwiches later.

Upon her seeing the frozen slab of meat, she stopped her crying. So I thought, "Hmm, this child of mine...she's an odd one," and I handed her the bacon.

She sat down in her play pen and hugged the bacon for all it's worth and looked up at me with the biggest grin ever.

When she gets old enough to really eat bacon, I hope there's not going to be any family duels as to who gets the last piece!