Monday, November 14, 2011

This is what I'll be doing this morning.

Grocery shopping.  We're out of everything. Which is strange, because I stockpile stuff like I was raised during the depression.  There are typically 5 pounds of dried pasta and 10 cans of tomatoes around, and  I have enough canned pumpkin to outfit then neighborhood in pies for next week. My husband recently commented that he couldn't swing a cat around here without hitting a can of beans.  I only wanted to know where he got the cat, and why he was swinging it around.  Doesn't sound like authorized use of a cat.

So now I'm out of beans.  Well, black beans.  I still have canellini beans, black-eyed peas, and chickpeas.  I  have some dried pintos and Anasazi beans.  And there may still be a can of kidney beans somewhere.

The second half of the cat-bean statement was that he couldn't find a can of Spaghetti-Os to save his life.  That part is intentional.  I think Spaghetti-Os are the single grossest food product that the United States has churned out in the last 100 years.  And there's some stiff competition out there.  Blue yogurt in a plastic tube. Margerine, which used to be pink.  And don't forget Velveeta.  But none of those things taste like you've already puked them back up.  Which is exactly what Spaghetti-Os taste like to me.  I don't care if the noodles are shaped like princesses or Cars characters. The sauce tastes like someone's used it already.  At one point I almost had him convinced that his reflux problems were caused primarily by Spaghetti-Os, but then he had a really bad episode with no Spaghetti-Os in a 500-foot radius.  Curses, foiled again!

So it's off to Publix for me.  Then I'll go and take lunch to school for Hannah.  I'm so out of food I couldn't even make her lunch. Frozen, pre-made PB&J, anyone?

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