What Pre-Divorce Looks Like at Casa de McClain

You all know I've been torturing Bryon with my new, "I think I'm going to pass on the meat tonight, dear" lately. He's been supportive with a side of sausage for himself. I give him credit. Well, since we had the half marathon last weekend, we didn't get to the commissary, which means we are scrambling for dinner every night, instead of having our trusty two weeks of meal/menu planned out. I make us sick with our organization. Anyway, with me in charge, guess what happened? Guess! You'll never guess. Yes, that's right, I went to the hippie grocery store, vegetarian recipes in hand and got us some yummy, delicious treats that I will surely enjoy. I also got this.

It was actually an accident. I meant to just get a smaller tub of regular sour cream. I texted Bryon when I got home and told him what I got, pre-warning him that in addition to eating meatless Mexican lasagna, he'd be having Tofutti sour cream (what the hell is that?), and his response was, "Love you, sounds good," followed by, "sheltering in place, at FPCON ex Delta." In other words, you could tell me that we are pregnant with an alien spawn and I'm not listening to you. So, I'm eager to see his reaction to said new product. Alas, it was an easy mistake. At these hippie-dippy stores, they put all the organic, and crazy tofu (yum) stuff right next to the real stuff, and it's easy to grab the wrong thing. If you aren't careful, you could accidentally grab a Malawi orphan, as they are right next to the salsa.

Maybe he won't be mad or even like it, if Collin signs a Valentine for him too? What do you think?

Or gives him a ride on the big wheel? I let him take it to the park the other day. Monday to be exact. That was the worst three blocks of my life. Sheer hell. Mommy had to walk bent over, helping him push, because he flat out refuses to pedal, and know what? Mommy's sore leg muscles that just ran 13.1 miles the day before at what was, to her, rocket speed, did NOT want to walk bent over, for three blocks, pushing a 36 pound child. Good thing I love him.

Eh, who knows? Maybe the stuff that claims to be "better than Sour Cream" really will be and I won't need to stay with one of you tonight.