We—meaning everyone but him—yoyo with PB&J sandwiches or ramen. After we finish, he wanders into the kitchen and grills a steak for himself. Hmmm.
While we shopped together recently, as I loaded up on hamburger, he saw London broil steak on sale and piled a couple of megapacks into our cart.
When we got home, I asked him if I should separate them into separate packages—he said “Yes.” I knew it. I presented the seven packs of steak to my daughter and said, “Here are the steaks for Dad to eat when he makes us yoyo.”
Yoyos originated as a weapon for hunters—a rock on a string didn’t have to be retrieved (you didn’t have to climb down from the tree to retrieve your rock/weapon if you missed the rabbit, you just pulled the string up and chucked it at the next unsuspecting bunny).
My husband has modified the yoyo for his own hunting pleasures. Steak.
