We had pigs in blankets again today for lunch. The pigs come out for warmth every couple weeks. It's a bargain basement meal, a pack of hot dogs and a roll of biscuits.
The term "pigs in blankets" is one I heard in school, since it was often on the menu board they kept in the hall. So to this day when we have it, I feel like I'm back in school.
I'm not a huge fan of it as a meal, but it's economical. There's something about it I don't like. And maybe it is the school aspect of it, like maybe I associate it with having to go to P.E. afterward.
The name alone -- pigs in blankets -- is enough to make you choke.
What if you're out camping? Then you could have pigs in sleeping bags. Or pigs in pup tents. Or it's a very cold winter day? Pigs in comforters. Or you're doing spy work in the former Soviet Union? Pigs undercover. Or Afghanistan? Pigs in burkas.
I ate my two pigs in blankets today. Usually one's enough for me, but somehow I went for two. It's a very nasty meal.