shalanna

Just made a run to Central Market (the EXPENSIVE grocery store) because we're having a little get-together today to celebrate nothing (maybe just not having croaked, eh?), and I pulled out the electric fondue pot that I got myself as a wedding present and then only used once. (We've used the electric crock-pots, though, including the little ones that you use to keep hot broccoli dip or cheese-based dips hot.) I thought we'd try a bit of fondue along with the stuffed celery and mushroom caps. It's Atkins-friendly, too.

But the cashier's eyes saucered when I unladened my li'l red basket. Blocks of cheese, grated cheese, boxed Velveeta, and cheese for dessert. She eyed me. "So . . . you're part mouse?"

(Now go on and read the previous entry, a serious one about writing. I didn't want to push that one down the stack, but I just couldn't resist posting this funny.)

(I suppose I COULD be part mouse. Cats HAVE always gravitated toward me and see no problem in attacking my ankles as I walk by.)