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?