Boy, you turn me
And round and round
I spotted another difference between the mittens and contemplated ripping for about two seconds, but it doesn’t bother me that much. I’m always going to smile about the differences now, anyway, with the upcoming contest and all.
On the menu this weekend: Chocolate Bread Pudding.
Once upon a time, my mother was a single mother of five, going to nursing school full-time and on welfare. We ate a lot of bread pudding for "dessert" in those years — and washed it down with "mixed milk," but that’s another story. It’s funny that none of my siblings remember bread pudding quite so vividly (and horridly) as I do, but there you go… We all take note of and remember — are tortured by — different things in life. (I have a similar view of ring bologna, shared by at least one sibling, and that seed was planted even before the divorce.) So, for a long time — many years — the thought of bread pudding made me wanna barf.
Add a little chocolate to the ingredient list, though, change the bread from plain old white to cinnamon-raisin, throw in a little distance (30 years ought to do it!), and I’m willing to revisit Bread Pudding… YUM! We had it first with a little vanilla ice cream. The second time, I sprinkled on a few more chocolate chips. ; )