I took the kids up to my folks’ house two night ago for a movie night. I had planned to watch the old holiday classic “Christmas in Connecticut” with my mother.
I expected to be greeted by my mother’s warm smile and always-cheery smelling house. As far as the warm smile goes, I got it. But the cheery-smelling house? Not so much. Instead, I found my Dad over the sink with a knife and a bowl full of what I wished was jelly.
Nope.
He had branded earlier that day, and his bowl was full of cow testicles.
He was going to cook them up, but he couldn’t find the mix he usually uses. Instead of hunkering down on my parents’ leather couch to watch a Christmas movie, I made my dad A Cow Ball Cookin’ Assembly Line. I filled a pie tin with an egg and milk mixture, and then I filled another pan with a seasoned flour mixture. As he cut the oysters up, I dipped them in the egg/milk mixture and then into the flour mixture.
Dad then grilled them on his George Foreman.
My kids weren’t at all interested in the black and white Christmas movie. But they WERE interested in helping grandpa. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE don’t read on if you’re squeamish. REALLY.
I’m BEGGING you.
Dad only grilled a few, but he did make sure the entire lot of balls was cut and cleaned before he went to bed. The kids were by his side the entire time.
After I had seasoned and coated the few he wanted to cook that night, I retired to the living room for a long winter’s movie.
But I laughed, as I listened to dad and the kids, in spite of myself.
“You’re going to squeeze it,” Dad would say.
“Squeezie! Squeezie!” My son would say. He’s been adding and “ee” sound to the end of everythingee these days. (“I want milky, milky, mliky.” “I want juicy, juicy, juicy!”)
As the kids would squeeze, the meat would come out of it’s skin and be nearly ready for cooking. My son couldn’t get enough of picking them up out of the water and THROWING them back in.
I’m going to warn you AGAIN. DON’T WATCH THIS IF YOUR GAG REFLEX IS WEAK.
After they were grilled, we all got a taste.
Anyone is welcome to taste. Dad does make a mean cow ball.
After the movie was over, I loaded the kids into the car and drove home. It took about three minutes. When I pulled into my drive, I turned around and saw:
Cooking can really wear a kid out.
HAHAHA! This is classic to show them when they are older. Just make sure Trent never sees Danny in the shower. He may run up and “squeezie”.
(Lacy’s smile in the 2nd pic cracks me up.)
This is one of those posts you can use as fodder for the Wedding Luncheon Video Slideshow for either of your kids.
Why do you think I even bother blogging? :)
Wow. That made cow balls look nearly appetizing. Oh, the things you grow up thinking are normal–I remember the first time Steve went branding with my family–he was appalled by the fact that the kids were running around holding cow testicles and bits of ears. But I thought it was cute! :)
Hope you enjoyed your cow balls.
Jewel, it makes me so happy that you see things like I do! It so funny how I looked on that scene as heart-warming and other people looked on it disgusting. But I was also chased down the street by my great-grandma’s house by my older cousin. He was trying to peg me with a cow’s eye ball.
Ranchers…