Cattle and Chicken and Pigs, Oh My!

“What can you tell me about Swine Flu?” I asked my husband the moment he returned from work. I’m sure these are the days he loves being a doctor.

“Please don’t stop buying bacon,” he answered.

“Why would you say that?” I said. (I knew exactly what he was talking about.)

“Remember Mad Cow Disease?” he asked, as if I could ever forget.

“Mad Cow was no laughing matter. Oprah had a whole show about it. Can you imagine dying a slow, painful death from some neurodigestivegitative disorder?”

“Neurodegenerative,” he smirked.

“Even worse,” I shook my head. “Oprah probably – no – DEFINITELY saved our lives that year.”

“You mean the year we spent eating frozen ground tofu in our spaghetti sauce?” he gagged a little. “The year you tried to spearhead the marketing of chopped Spamburgers to McDonald’s?”

“It would have made us millions.”

He rolled his eyes. “And just when you started to come around, [one trip to Gates Barbeque snapped me back to reality, some things are worthy dying of a neurowhatever disorder for] Avian Flu hit the news.”

Ah, the Bird Flu. Those were scary times.

“You wouldn’t let us eat poultry for six months,” he said. “The kids still freak out every time we drive by a KFC. You almost had us eat a Thanksgiving sausage that year.”

“Yes, and the leftovers would have been fantastic,” I reminded him. That was during my phase where I thought I could look just like Giada if I ate everything she made on TV. I could not have been more wrong. I looked more like Paula Deen.

“You can’t catch Bird Flu from eating chicken!” he snapped.

“If you can’t catch Bird Flu from eating chicken, then why was everyone on China wearing those mouth guards to keep from eating stuff they shouldn’t?” I asked.

“Those weren’t mouth guards,” he said, “Those were respiratory masks. Bird Flu was in the air, not in the food.”

“Say what you want,” I told him, “but, personally, I would rather eat a tuna enchilada than risk catching some deadly chicken bacteria.”

“Virus.”

“Same thing.”

“Not really.”

“So next you’re going to bring up the peanut butter recall?” I changed the subject. I was not in the mood for a microbiologist’s dissertation on the genetic and physiological differences between streptococcus and rhinovirus.

“You mean the month we ate your homemade granola bars?” he laughed.

“Those were cheaper and safer than the store-bought ones,” I reminded him.

“Cheap, safe, gritty, flavorless, and still in my digestive tract,” he responded.

Yes, all of those things were true… “But none of us died from salamander,” I added.

“Salmonella.”

Sigh. “So are you going to tell me about Swine Flu or do I have to wait for Matt Lauer on Monday morning?”

“Wash your hands, exercise, and quit talking on the cell phone while you drive.”

“But what about Swine Flu?” I pleaded, “They’re calling it a deadly international pandemic online.”

He shook his head. “Please don’t stop buying bacon.”