Pretty horses. Funny story.

The above picture has nothing to do with the subject matter of this post. It's a theme I've decided to go with this week, titled, "Which one of these things does not go with the others?"

Or I'm just too disorganized this week to actually take pictures that match up with what I want to write about.

I'll let you be the judge.

Please be kind.

Anyway, the funny story...

I spent a good part of the day, today, making applesauce from a bunch of apples we picked at my brother's/nephew's/nephew's girlfriend's place the other day (it's complicated).

I slaved over this applesauce.

I scrubbed the apples till they were shiny and beautiful.

I peeled them carefully.

I chopped them in perfect 1/2"x1/2" squares.

(Not really.)

(They were 5/8".)

I placed them in my crock pot and gently mixed them with a beautiful blend of citrus and sweetness.

I turned on the crock pot, and after a few hours, the house was filled with the most wonderful applesauce aroma.

It was heaven.

It was a thing of beauty.

Needless to say, I was pleased with my applesauce. The kids and I had some for a snack this afternoon, and it was a hit!

We had spaghetti for supper.

(This sounds irrelevant, but it isn't.)

I had to leave shortly after Mr. Blue got home, and within a couple minutes of hitting the road, I called him quick and asked if he'd give the applesauce a stir and then put it in the fridge. I hoped during this task he would give it a taste, get goosebumps, and fall in love with me all over again.

Me, his lovely wife who makes perfect applesauce.

So, tonight when I got home, I said, "Did you like my sawwwse?"

(I said it like that, with a Boston accent.)

(This sounds irrelevant, and it is.)

He replied, "Yes, it was delicious."

I smiled to myself like a cheshire cat.

Then he said, "I added in a secret ingredient."

This alone was enough to make me aghast.

What? He had felt the need to add something to my perfect sauce? I was appalled.

"Ice cream?" I said.

"No," he said.

"Whipped cream?" I said.

"No," he said. "Easy Cheese."

I gasped OUT LOUD.

WhointhewhatinthewhywouldyoueverthinkitwasagoodideatoaddEASYCHEESEtomybeautiful
perfectslavedoverandbelovedAPPLESAUCE?

I thought I might weep.

I've always known I had a bit more refined tastes than my husband, but this was a new low.

Then he turned to look at me, standing there with mouth agape and two jars of applesauce in my hands.

"Oh, I thought you were talking about the spaghetti sauce," he said.

Comments

[Tauna]

SNORT!!!!

[Tauna]

I just read your comment on my blog and I laughed!
You are right! You totally have taken pictures of horse poop! You so rock!