Know what’s neat? Being an adult and not having to eat my mom’s awful cooking. What she didn’t burn she undercooked, and if it wasn’t a desert it was water logged. Everything was swimming in gravy, oil and butter and a fresh vegetable was the kind of miracle that was usually heralded by angels and accompanied by the travel of wise men.
So, I’m sitting here, munching on a veggie burger and a bowl of steamed broccoli and cauliflower and having a giggle to myself because my veggies don’t have butter on them, and you can’t spread them like mayonnaise. Life is sweet.