At the supermarket meat counter (pre-packaging is not so big here), you can get ground beef or pork or a mix, so I asked for the mix to put in spaghetti. I get home—and it's pork all the way, baby. I should have suspected something was amiss when the woman gave me the exact amount I asked for, because she usually messes it up on the order of 100 grams. Something had to give, I suppose.
The mistake wasn't enough to ruin my lovely spaghetti dinner, but I was still a bit put out. So Lovely Husband says, "Eat pork and be merry," only he puts in a slight pause after "eat." That cracked us up. Now he's considering sending it to the Pork Advisory Board as a new slogan. Even if they don't use it, it will be immortalized here in my blog.
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