My favorite t.v. chef is Paula Deen. Hands down. I love her southern accent. I love her homecooked meals. I even love her made-for-tv kitchen (cottage cupboards, butcher block island). She makes me want to make macaroni and cheese and chocolate cake--from scratch. There is one uniform secret to Paula Deen's success: butter. And who doesn't love butter? Creamy, rich, spreadable, cookable, and generally a perfect food. When I was a little girl, my grandma fed me white bread with butter. I can still think of no better snack.
After this weekend, I am convinced that my child is well on his way to becoming the next Paula Deen--if Paula were a skinny blonde who preferred rice cakes to cupcakes. We arrived in Ponca City late Friday evening. R.J. chattered most of the way, falling asleep only after we exited onto Highway 60 for the final 15 miles into town. He woke up when we arrived at grandma and poppy's house and was ready to party.
Standing in the kitchen, he started to sing, "I like butter, I like butter!" (This from the child who eats nothing). He shook his hips, hands on his "belt buckle." From that point on, the song of the week is the butter song, which is, of course, accompanied by the butter dance. For those who are interested, the butter song has two verses:
I like buuuuuttter! I like bisssscuits! Honey, jam and waffles too!
I like Zeus-y! I like Ben-y! Scutter, Ralph and my cat Boo!
I wonder if Paula needs an opening theme song?
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