Last night, my evening ended like this: (and I quote)
Me – “Why are there Panko Breadcrumbs on the grocery list? There are still some in the pantry.”
Sweetman – “Yeah, but they expired last month.”
Me – “Okay, so you threw them out then?”
Sweetman – “No. I kept them in case we have an emergency.”
What, what emergency could we possibly have that would justify keeping expired bread crumbs? A science experiment emergency? A cooking emergency? A facial exfoliating emergency? (Now, that one, I could get behind.)
I just looked at him and replied, “That hurts my head. I’m going to bed. I think I still love you anyway.”
And I’m telling you, as sure as shootin’, as I headed up the stairs, he asked “You’re still going to buy new ones, though, right? And don’t throw out the old ones until we have the new ones in the house.”
Oh. Yes. He. Did.
If you need me, I’ll be at the grocery store. Because, breadcrumbs.
I might be buying an extra bottle of wine, while I’m at it.