OUCH! That's my ample rumpus smarting, from the large chomp that Even Steven, Karma, and The Universe just took out of it.
Silly, silly, Mrs. HM, complaining about the recent lack of included mustard and mayo in her pre-packaged deli sub sandwich. Threatening to go back to Dairy Queen, from whom she'd flounced away due to substandard pretzel sticks.
I DID go back to Dairy Queen. To pick up two orders of pretzel sticks, one for me, one for The Pony.
Oh, yes. They're still tiny. And now they're also CHARRED!
I'm not sure what lesson I'm supposed to learn from this, but I figure there's still a lot of schooling in my future.
4 comments:
I'd say you should start making your own breadsticks. From that frozen bread dough, I imagine. It wouldn't be much work (put The Pony on breadstick detail) and extra melted butter could be used (that would lure The Pony).
Charred and tiny? Those breadsticks are not spectacular.
My mother was famous for burning things that she still insisted that we eat. She would try to say that she intended the burn because it is better for you. We never believed her.
Perhaps the lesson is to learn to make your own?
Ha ha, I'm sooo funny :)
Unknown,
I suppose I could find (or send The Pony into The Devil's Playground to find) a tube of PRETZEL dough, perhaps in the biscuit section! My poor pretzels were indeed unspectacular. After seeing this batch, I wouldn't grab them to steady myself if I tripped and fell in a sauna!
***
Kathy,
At least she didn't serve you the cardboard off the bottom of a frozen pizza. I hope...
***
River,
HUSH! As The Pony is wont to say when I speak truth.
I worked long and hard to reach this age where I can tool around town in the middle of the day and pick up lunch that I don't have to make for myself! And eat in a room alone, without 150 shenaniganning 14-16 year olds as dining companions.
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