I had to stop at the grocery store on the way home from work today, and because it's a Giant Eagle Market District they had sushi. I was hoping to score some sashimi, but no luck. There was some nigiri sushi, but it looked like it had been sitting there awhile (no demand for sushi in Pittsburgh? Heather, I'm sure you're shocked) so I passed on it and instead picked up a dozen California rolls. Rushed home with them and gobbled them down before Dave got home. Well, I offered to the Sons. Older Son unequivocably refused, but Younger Son tried one, decided he like it, and snarfed down three more. As I was eating it I said to them "Don't tell Dad we had sushi when he gets home, because I'm eating it all." Dave gets home about ten minutes later, and after being in the house for all of five minutes says "So I guess you're just having sushi for dinner, then." I don't know which one of them gave me up (but I'm suspicious of YS). See if I cover for either of them.
Then, full of sushi, I decided that I really needed to spin. So I set up my spinning wheel on the front porch and spun some more sock yarn while listening to Market Place (I heart Kai Ryssdal). Sushi causes an irresistable urge to spin. Who knew?
7 years ago