(Some of you probably saw this on my Facebook status this weekend. I had to repeat the story on the blog for posterity's sake.)
Friday night. I pick up take out. BBQ. The family pack which includes 1 lb. of pulled pork, three sides, and a slab of ribs.
Kevin and I are eating the ribs (the sauce is a tad too spicy for the kids). Fletcher notices the obvious bones.
Fletcher: Where do those ribs come from?
I knew he wasn't asking which store because he knew which BBQ place I was going to.
I didn't want to say anything because I was afraid I would freak him out and turn him into a vegetarian for life. Finally, I decided to answer him (briefly) in a very nonchalant way.
Mom: Pigs
Fletcher: (with relief) Oh, good. I was hoping you weren't going to say people.
No comments:
Post a Comment