Farmer H is sickly again. I really think it would be healthier for him to skip his weekly shot. This is becoming a habit. He goes to the doctor's office every Friday afternoon, and comes down with a sickness on Sunday night or Monday morning. If he was still working, I'd declare that he was faking it. But now it interferes with his own personal junking time.
I was heading to town around noon, so I set out a saucepan, a mug, a large spoon, and a can of chunky chicken noodle soup. I even put on my glasses to make sure the expiration date was September 8 of 2018. Not 2016.
Farmer H had agreed to have the chicken soup for his lunch. He probably thought I'd be making it for him, though. Anyhoo...it occurred to me halfway to town that I'd forgotten to lay out a can opener. I guess Farmer H managed all right. I made sure that the soup I bought while in town has a flip top.
When I got home, the soup was gone. The pan had been rinsed clean. The mug had been rinsed clean.
I'm pretty sure my sink drain is going to be clogged with tiny pieces of noodle, carrot, and celery.