Hormel Boneless Pork Roast. Roast Flavored.

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More fun with food packaging.

I didn’t look closely when I bought this pre-packaged pork roast.  If I would have I might have questioned it a bit.

I mean…is there a reason they need to disclose that it is ‘roast flavored’?  But then, if I would have looked closer I would have noticed that it has a ‘patented’ flavoring solution…which must mean it’s better than any other flavoring solution, right?

Oh.  And by the way?  It wasn’t that good.  The patented flavoring solution tasted like it had parmesan cheese in it and we all know that parmesan can go either way…fresh and cheesey or old and vomity.  This was the latter.

I think their patent is safe.

Defective Chicken?

What is it that a chicken could do that would make one leg so significantly larger than the other?  Did it walk in circles too much?  Or was it missing a foot?

Or are they switching parts on me and the pieces that come in a ‘whole chicken cut up’ aren’t all from the same bird?

I better stop there.  If I keep questioning I know I’ll go into territories better left alone.

Conversations with a Four and Six Year Old.

As they share a lunchable…

4YO: Mom, can you cut the last one in half so we don’t get each others germs?

ME: It’s ok.  Go ahead.

6YO: Yeah.  We have the same blood type.

4YO: But we don’t have the same germs.

Someone explain extreme body odor to me.

You know what I hate?  I hate having a sensitive nose.  Bloodhound sensitive.

Especially on days like yesterday.  At breakfast the waitress brought our food.  We dug in and all of a sudden it hit me.  Not being one to hide my olfactory prowess I blurted out…

“What is that SMELL?”

My mom pointed out that it must be her Feta omelette.  Oh. Despite the fact that cooked Feta smells like vomit, I could handle it.  Deep breath in (through mouth).  Deep breath out.  It’s just cheese.  It may be stinky but it’s edible and that’s just what happens when you heat it.  I talked myself down and continued eating.

Then the booth across from us was seated and I about died right then and there.  No one else smelled what wafted into our booth.  I couldn’t believe it.  Maybe it was just a chance whiff of something passing by.  I sat silent.  Chewing and running through my head what could possibly be going on.  No one could smell that bad. NO ONE.  And actually go out in public like that.  Unless they didn’t have a choice.  For a few minutes I sat with my own little brain, internally fielding the barrage of questions that one little smell can bring up…

Do they not realize they smell that way?  The don’t look stinky.  Are they European?  (I listened for accents).  How could their three friends sit next to them?  Which one was it?  Can his wife not smell?  Or did they all smell that way?  Were they RV-ers that are conserving water?  Do RVers conserve water?   Or is that just how I would do it?  What the hell is going on here???

I finally had to ask my husband, who was actually closer to them than me.  ‘Don’t you SMELL that?’

‘Now that you said it, yeah.’  But it didn’t seem to bother him.  Obviously he wasn’t smelling it like I was.  Or maybe the Feta was winning out in his vicinity.

Oh my Lord.  What was wrong with me?  Did I have a brain tumor that caused my senses to hyper sense?

All I knew, was that I needed to eat fast because if I breathed too much that would be it.