Me-I like to cook
Woman-I can’t cook. I’ve never used an oven. Wait, I’ve made shrinky dinks. Do those count. They go in the oven.
Me-Sure, let’s say that counts. Sigh…
Me-I like to cook
Woman-I can’t cook. I’ve never used an oven. Wait, I’ve made shrinky dinks. Do those count. They go in the oven.
Me-Sure, let’s say that counts. Sigh…
He said “I had four servings of intestines for lunch. Ate them in ten minutes. I had pig rectum yesterday. What did you have”
I said “I had a sub, at subways”
Note to self, never eat lunch with him.
Another day at a hotel with a breakfast buffet. I’m actually looking forward to being home, my pop tarts in the cupboard are looking darn good about now. I decided to have the “make your own” waffle. I tried to fill the “waffle measuring cup” with waffle batter but no batter came out, it must have been empty. There was only strawberry waffle batter so I decided to try it. I poured the batter in the waffle iron and closed the lid. A bright red clock on the waffle iron started counting down, two minutes thirty seconds until it was done. A man came over and tried to get batter. I told him only strawberry is available and that I’d be done in one minute and thirty seconds and gestured to the red timer. I looked away for a second and the man had opened the waffle iron. I explained that my waffle wasn’t done yet. He said “my bad” and walked away. I stuffed my mangled waffle back in the iron, let it cook and ate it while I thought about writing this blog post and going home.
My son was offered a sample of food at a local market. He took a bite and whispered that’s horrible and looked like he was going to spit it out on his plate while he was standing near the sample stand. I said, “NO, don’t spit it like that” I grabbed a napkin and told him to step away from people and he discreetly put it in the napkin. I gave him a quick mom lecture on manners. Then my daughter came up to us. She said “try this” while tossing food in my mouth. My first reaction was the same as my son. I needed to spit it out! He grabbed a napkin and I went around the isle to try to discreetly spit it out.
My son said “told you so” Funny guy! Why would I open my mouth to anything after I saw my son spit food? I will never know…
As I waited in line at McDonald’s the guy ahead of me asked to have his burger put in the microwave. The clerk told him “all our burgers are precooked so you don’t have to worry that it’s not done”. He said “yeah, but I like my food hot when I eat it”
Their conversation made me laugh, but the fact that I still ordered food when he was done in spite of his cold burger made me laugh more.
In case you wondered my burger was cold too…
I was reminded of this story by a dear old friend. He said it was the anniversary of this “event”
My friend and I were flying to my parents home for Christmas. It was a five hour flight. We both ate cute little turkey sandwiches cut in four pieces with brightly colored toothpicks holding the sandwich fourths together. Shortly after I ate I fell asleep leaning against him. He said I started to mumble a little in my sleep. We had traveled together before so that wasn’t a surprise to him. Then I got a little louder, and louder. I started saying “aaaaa, aaaaaaaa, AHHHHH” He was getting a little embarrassed so he nudged me a little to wake me. Then I got louder and a littler clearer, “the toothpick, I swallowed the toothpick, I SWALLOWED THE TOOTHPICK”. He said everyone was looking at us at this point. Some were concerned. He was telling the people I was fine not to worry as he tried to wake me. I awoke to people looking at me. He explained to me what happened and I told him I had a dream that I had eaten the toothpick in the sandwich. We laughed and people continued to glance at us. He said he’d never fly with me again, but that was a lie because he has flown with me many times. He never let’s me forget the toothpick story, he reminds me every year on our “toothpick aversary”
I took my kids to a local burger place for dinner. I ordered for my daughter. She wanted a kids cheeseburger meal. I ordered it and the clerk said they had cheeseburgers but with no cheese. I was surprised, no cheese? At all? Really? I asked the girl if she was sure. She said that’s right we have no cheese, except goat cheese. I wanted to say why does a burger place like this have goat cheese but I didn’t really want to know. I just wanted to feed my kids and go home. I held back my need to tell her that a cheeseburger with no cheese is a hamburger. My son ordered his dinner. We got our burgers and sat down. I looked at my son’s meal and it was a cheeseburger. Cheese between each layer. Orange processed cheese. I asked my son how he got cheese and he said he just ordered a double cheeseburger. Then my daughter starts with how come he got cheese. I went to the counter and asked the clerk for cheese for my daughter. I reminded her that she said the restaurant had no cheese. She just stared at me. She said nothing. Another clerk came up and put a piece of cold cheese wrapped in plastic on a plate, gave it to me and pointed at the tip jar. I would have taken anything orange to give my daughter at that point. I was so frustrated I told my kids we would never come back, but truth be told I know eventually we will. The kids do too. They looked at me and smiled while I ranted about the cheese. The burger place will have a toy with the meal and it will be late and the kids will be hungry and I will be tired and I will go and they will probably be out of cheese.
Just to let you know I didn’t put anything in the tip jar.
We were in the grocery store
I said – let’s have pancakes for dinner.
He said – don’t say that!
I said – what?
He said – you embarrassed me.
I said – what?
He said – you said let’s have pancakes for dinner in front of that woman who just bought six dollar oatmeal.
I laughed!!
He didn’t!
Mrs B was an old woman that lived across the street. She was 88.
-She was driving down the street with her back doors open. My brother chased her up the street yelling Mrs B your doors are open. Sadly, Mrs B couldn’t hear. God only knows how far she drove like that.
-Mrs B saw my dogs plastic hamburger bun chew toy on the carpet and announced “oh, my, someone dropped their dinner bun!” She didn’t stop until I finally picked it up and claimed it as mine.
-She asked my mom if she thought she would have a better chance at renewing her license if she used one crutch or two. She thought since she wasn’t quite 90 she had a good chance.
I was at McDonalds and a man in his 70’s was looking into a mirror combing his eyebrows then he took scissors and trimmed then. I stopped eating. I lost my appetite but I was fascinated by the old man. Then he took his scissors and started trimming his nose hair. I needed to leave. My kids insisted on staying. The table was covered with little tiny hairs. I can’t go back there