The Bone Of Contention, Hillbilly Mansion Style

Farmer H and I usually have supper around 6:30 or 7:00. That might change as the days grow shorter, but during summer, Farmer H likes to work outside, or take a dip in POOLIO in the evening. The Pony prefers to immerse himself in the big triangle tub in the master bathroom around 6:00. So he often eats his one meal a day in the afternoon, unless I am preparing something especially delectable.

As I mentioned in the comments a couple days ago, I stretched our takeout Chinese food from Friday into four more meals. After adding goodies like baby corn, water chestnuts, mushrooms, diced onion, and Hoisen sauce, I needed some meat to keep it from being just "filler," as Farmer H says. I dearly wanted to slice up the leftover pork steak that Farmer H grilled the Sunday of Labor Day weekend, but I refrained. Even Mrs. HM won't eat a 7-day-old pork steak. Not even one that's been in FRIG II all week.

My plan was to stop by Country Mart for Farmer H's weekly bananas, a jug of his Zero Calorie Tea, and some Vidalia onions. I could get a few chicken strips from the deli counter to cut up in the Chinese leftovers. Well! The Country Mart deli ain't what it used to be. They had chicken strips, but they were the size of my pinky finger! Almost as if they'd cut their regular chicken strips into halves or thirds before frying.

I went to the cold case, and found a few of their old-style chicken strips from the day before. I bought it, and a pack of cold fried chicken, figuring that would be enough to add to four servings of Chinese. When I got home, I saw that I had bought a very special chicken! It had one breast, one thigh, and 2.5 wings! The wings were useless to me. Too much work to get a little meat. So I gave them to Farmer H, who'd been planning on getting a burger at the auction. I also gave him one of the four chicken strips, since it was mostly breading.

I cut up the remaining chicken strips, and pulled the meat off the bones of the fried chicken. I'm sure you will not be surprised that I got as much breading and bones as there was meat. I set this aside in a container for the dogs' treat the next day. I added all the meat to the rice mixture, made myself a supper serving, and apportioned three dinners for us for Sunday night. No green peppers for Farmer H. No green peppers nor mushrooms for The Pony. 

Sunday around 2:00, The Pony came out of his room to warm up his meal. He added some spicy oil, which smelled really good, and opened up my head. He warmed the remaining Crab Rangoons, since I said I'd make frozen ones, along with a couple egg rolls from our frozen free Ponytail Guy stash, for myself and Farmer H.

The Pony graced me with his presence at the cutting block to dine, rather than carrying that spicily-oiled Chinese food onto my carpet by the marred coffee table. I was at the kitchen table playing Candy Crush. I could hear The Pony crunching away on those delicious Rangoons.

"HEY! I got a bone in my Chinese!"

Oops...

The Pony came to the table, waving a thin bone the size of my pinky finger. Only thinner, since my pinky finger bone is encased in flesh and skin. It was like half a wishbone. That little bone at the corner of a chicken breast.

"Oh. I guess I missed that when I pulled the chicken off the bone last night. Sorry."

"You know how I hate bones! I won't even eat real chicken, because of the bones! I was chewing, and thought I had a really crunchy sliver of bamboo shoot. Then it wouldn't chew up, and I pulled out a BONE!"

"That will forever be a bone of contention, I guess..."

Didn't stop The Pony from strapping the old feedbag right back on.