Gotta Hide the Hotdogs

Last night Annie hosted a Pampered Chef party. We spent a good two hours preparing our house: cleaning, straightening, sweeping, and hiding things until the house was immaculate. The consultant showed up an hour beforehand with her husband to get everything set up. The place looked great.

As the guests arrived - a good 10-12 women - they were greeted by the smell of chocolate, because that was the theme. Oreo truffles, Valentine M&M cookies, and graham cracker chocolate dip were spread out on the dining room table. We had created the perfect sales environment. I managed the girls, leaving Annie to be the wonderful host that she is. The show went great. Everything had gone perfectly.

Until Ryo came home.

He walked in to see the gaggle of women, and was naturally surprised. Annie, figuring that he might be put out by the estrogen-charged atmosphere, said that he could take his dinner to his room. To her surprise, he declined. So, get this. Just as the show was drawing to a close, and all of the women were perusing the catalog to decide upon their purchases, Annie catches the strong, unmistakable odor of hotdogs. HOTDOGS!

She looks over to see Ryo carrying a plate loaded with three pieces of pizza and two plain, no-bun, freshly-microwaved hotdogs over to the dining room table. He sets his plate down and takes root right in the middle of the desert spread - right in front of the whole group!

Few things are as jarring as the smell of delicious chocolate competing with hotdog for nasal attention. Annie was horrified at how quickly the house went from the perfect baking sales environment to smelling like an AM/PM.

What is with this guy and hotdogs? Annie had specifically NOT set out any hotdogs for him to eat. Partly because we are rationing them for tomorrow night's pups-in-a-blanket, and partly because she wanted to avoid this very thing from happening. Nevertheless, he managed to locate some in the freezer, defrost them, and serve them up.

We love these students, and are happy to have them in our home, but desperate times call for desperate measures. We decided last night that we are going to have to store (hide) our hotdogs in the garage freezer. Oh ya, and invest Ball Park Franks stock.