It’s Saturday, and blessedly other than chasing a bum-knee-hobbler the day after surgery I have NOTHING to do but go to the GOOD grocery store. The GOOD one with fresh produce and the fancy, imported cheeses. I get a Havarti (because it’s the best kind of cheese, clearly), maybe something else. Plus fancy crackers and grapes or blueberries but ONLY if they look excellent.
I always stall heading to the gym on Saturday to see if any of the basement creatures will get up and come with me. Nigel stays up way too late so, almost never. Ian doesn’t really care to stay more than 7 minutes so going with me drives him insane. And Neil will come if he thinks I’ll buy him something …. He doesn’t ACTUALLY love me. He just wants people to buy him things, and pretends like he loves them until he gets his way. It’s getting late, though – and I want my cheese. 10 AM: no one’s up yet.
Do yourself a little favor today and learn about Havarti: