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Bury me with my spoon?

I have a remarkable stout and stubborn metal spoon.  This spoon stirs up the stiffest dough, manhandles any meat, sautes the veggies and plays drums on the pots and pans.  My mom gave me this spoon and I only wish I knew where she got it so long ago.

I would have you bury me with it.  The great-grandchildren could all stand around me and remark on Granny and her spoon, but it would be a waste to put a spoon like that 6 feet under.

In this day and age of disposable $1000 kitchen appliances, I humbly present to you,

The Sturdy Spoon.

May you find one, too.

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Friends Don’t Let Friends Drive-Thru.

Supper comes everyday.

I know this.

Small children must eat every 2 hours and 47 minutes.

I know this.

Afterschool sporting events run late and make it difficult to shop for food, cook a healthy supper, and feed little (and big) people before they melt down into a hysterical tantrum.

I know this.

But I don’t always prepare, and so I find myself sending the troops into “It’s Hot and Waiting For You Pizza Joint.”  We order our favorite salty preserved meat pizzas and start licking our lips for our other favorite, “naturally” butter flavored breadsticks.  I walk next door to Food Emporium to pick up salad and leave with salad…and strawberries, and eggs for breakfast, and a 2 liter bottle of root beer.

$17.54

+ 14.72

__________________

= bacon and corn syrup euphoria

(comes free with morning-after re-budgeting)

Was this an emergency or a celebration?

Pizza.  Due to late afternoon activities that lasted  beyond my control, and due to joy at a great thing my kids did, we pulled off of crazy Cantrell Road rush hour traffic for pizza.  Margaret sweetly asked for pizza and I got to say, “Yes.”  This was not a budget meal.  But it was tasty.  Back to BEANS tomorrow.

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