We were busy here – sort of a bubbling hodge-podge of activity without much of import getting done or, for that matter, enjoyed. Things looked up, though, when Summer announced she had to go to a Mexican restaurant for Spanish Club tonight.  She doesn’t care too much for such food so we figured we’d get some doggie bag stuff. Well, she brought something home. Something. It looked like liver on a wet noodle. We stared at it . . . I courageously ventured a taste. Nothing bad happened. No good taste landed on my tongue, either.

We were bummed. Her mother asked her questions about what it was supposed to be, but I decided ignorance might be, if not bliss, at least preferable.

I feel the only thing to do now is have a foldover on multi-grain bread. Or a peanut butter ball sub sandwich – a foot-long one. Just letting my imagination have fun there.