In the early 1980s, Janet and I used to go back to Green Bay every summer to spend time with family. My ex-wife and daughter were there and it gave me a chance to spend time with my daughter that I rarely saw living so far away. My ex invited Janet & I to dinner at the dairy farm where she lived. I guess in Italian circles in New York, it is not considered normal to spend time with your husband’s ex-wife, but Janet was a good sport and went.

My daughter was thrilled we visited and immediately took us to see her favorite horse and the barn where the cows were being milked. It was not something Janet was totally comfortable with. Her first comment to my daughter was,

“Why is it so muddy in here?”

My daughter gave her a weird look and said,

“That is not mud.”, just as Janet’s white sneakers stepped into the “mud”.

Regardless, we sat down to a very pleasant dinner, where we enjoyed a delicious steak.

Just as Janet was taking her last bite, my daughter asked her mother if this was Pepi, a cow they had just slaughtered. Of course it was. Janet gave me a look and carefully stopped eating without being too obvious.

As we were leaving, we were handed a bag of various cuts of meat and some ground beef.

On the way back to my family’s house Janet’s comment was,

“I have never eaten a steak with a name before.”

We kidded about having a bag full of “Pepi Burgers”, which of course she never ate.

I have always been amused by Janet’s east coast attitude about us mid-western farmer types and I never fail to remind her of times like these..