A lightbulb goes off in your head, and you exclaim, "Oh right, I forgot all about the company picnic coming up."
"Yep," Mark happily nods, obviously excited about the event. "And this time, we're gonna get first prize."
"Oh Mark," you reply playfully, running your fingers through his hair. "You say that every year, and we've never won anything..."
Every year in August, Mark's company hosts a picnic for its employees and their families as one final celebration of summer before autumn kicks in. As part of the event, there are always a few contests to enter that can only be described to an outsider as completely random or just outright crazy. Nobody really complains about the strange competitions, however, when the company offers fabulous prizes to the winners. In fact, last year Mark came close to snagging a brand new speed boat for one contest in which the participants were required to make up a song on the spot involving a duck, a cement mixer, and lost love. Unfortunately, even with you and your daughter as his lovely backup singers, Mark's rendition of "Quacks in the Sidewalk" just wasn't enough to beat the winning entry, "Even Ducks Don't Float in the Mafia."
"This time will be different," he says, bringing your mind back from wandering. "I've heard rumors that there's going to be some sort of cooking contest this year, and you're one of the best damn cooks in the city. C'mon honey, it'll be fun, and with your help, we can't possibly lose!"
"Well..." you trail off, wondering if the two of you really have a chance at winning this year.
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