Today was my grocery shopping day. I didn't plan it that way. It just ended up being that I would grossly misjudge the time I had available this morning, completely miss church (both services), and spend my morning organizing coupons, planning meals, and getting a grocery list together.
You would think, with all this organizing going on, that ...
A.) my house would be immaculate
B.) my grocery shopping list would be entirely checked off.
You would be wrong on both counts.
But that's a blog for another time.
So, while I was grocery shopping through the brand new Save-A-Lot....
We have TWO Save-A-Lots in town now... yes, we're THAT blessed.
While I was wheeling my cart through the brand-spanking new Save-A-Lot, my eyes rested upon a case filled with Tombstone pizzas, and that brought a smile to my face.
Not for the reason you might think.
See, I know how you reason through my blogs. You read the word pizza, and you think, "Ahhh ... she's got a thing for pizza!", which is not entirely untrue. However, in this case, I am smiling because my mother outright refuses to eat Tombstone pizza. She will eat any other frozen pizza variety out there, but absolutely, positively NOT Tombstone pizza.
Why, you may ask?
Well, for obvious reasons, obviously. It's because of the tombstones. She can't bring herself to eat anything that is called tombstone.
I can't bring myself to eat anything that has the word POOP in it.
I suppose it's semantics.