The other week at my one assisted living client's with disabilities, I made some more bacon grease-covered baked potatoes again, but this time, too, afterwards, I asked her if she wanted me to make some bacon toast, where you take a few slices of bread and wipe the pan and then toast them in there.
"Sure," she was like.
"Waste not, want not," I was like.
"Yep!", she was like.
"Make sure you eat up every last little bit of bacon grease," I was like.
"Yep!", she was like, "Makes your veins nice and slippery, it lets the blood through," and then she laughed a bit maniacally at her own joke.
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