"Fair enough. I suppose bacon wouldn't be too hard of a challenge." He walked to the fridge, weaving past his grandson's bold movements to the toaster, Conor and Alex's conversation and the rather zombified Alistair, who still managed to exclude himself from familial conversation. He was introspective, a "quiet soul". David could respect that, although he hoped that the boy could somehow involve himself with them. As he opened the door to the fridge, he popped his head out to address Alistair:<br/>"I assume that even in your half-dazed state you can help an old man with a favor, yes?" He retrieved bacon from the meat drawer before shutting the door.<br/>"Later today, I need you to read something. Nothing too intensive, no talking involved, just reading something I think you'll find interesting." He gave Alistair a smile before moving to the stove, reaching behind him to retrieve a cast iron skillet that had been placed out by one of the women(bless them), placing it on the stove. Opening the package, he looked to his daughter with a teasing smile:<br/>"Baby, I would hardly call it a city. It's more of a quaint town with the occasional passer-by." He placed the strips one by one, calling out to Tom:<br/>"And yes, grandchild of mine, I AM making your bacon the way you like it. And before you ask, I read minds. Grandfather powers." He gave Alex a wink, letting the meat cook for a moment. He then looked to his wife, asking:<br/>"Do you need me around this morning or am I to be given the boon of watching my Chargers? We have a chance to get to five hundred this season! Five hundred! That's a miracle." An idea dawned.<br/>"Well, wait, scratch that. Why don't I take Alex with me to San Batista? It's a short drive and we need supplies anyway. Besides, you know I need someone to remind me what I need to get." Grabbing a nearby spatula, he flipped the bacon.<br/>"Unless we can let the kids go off and do their thing while we go into town? Call it a...date?" He asked laughingly.