Yesterday I came home after moving 10k pounds of industrial batteries by hand, and I was sore. And stiff. And I heard some sissy groaning in the distance... or maybe that was me.

For some bizarre reason, my otherwise perfect wife doesn't like potato salad and doesn't make it for me unless someone complains about the lack of Perfect Side Dish.

The kids took it upon themselves to Google the directions to make potato salad several hours before, which as we all know, has been universally proven to be the greatest side dish known to man.

I opened the fridge when I lumped upstairs to the Kitchen after finally getting home, and there in the middle of the fridge was a big, beautiful bowl of the best potato salad I've ever sampled. I had half my steak and 3 helpings of that potato salad.

I love my kids. The effort on their part warms my heart.

I'm a lucky man.