I made a wonderful dinner tonight. Chicken pot pie. Steamed broccoli. Cucumber salad. And wine, of course.
We said grace. We laughed. We ate. We were a happy (perfect) family enjoying a lovely Sunday evening at home.
When I got up to do the dishes, I found our adorable puppy dog, Ham Sandwich, licking the bottom of a tub of I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter. The same tub I had just opened about 30 minutes earlier. He ate the whole thing. The whole fucking thing.
WHY, GOD??? WHY??? Everything was going so well. WHY?
Ugh. Hang on, Ham. We’re about to see I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter in ways you won’t believe.