Oh, ugh. I like black licorice, but that sounds awful.

Welp, I know what I’m making this weekend. Hopefully.

That sounds delicious though.

And what, exactly, is a food blog writer, who is paid to write about food and food related things, supposed to do about any of that?

Please test your hypotheses are report back to the class.

Yeah, mine is pretty good about the recycling. The compost is different, but since I do all the cooking I see it more, so I don’t hold it against him.

Yeah, I’ve been there, and I’ve seen my freind’s relationships where it is like that. For us, it mostly boils down to “who’s home more”. Lately it’s been me, so I do a bit more, especially since I can’t contribute financially just now.

I will tell him. I’m not into boiled eggs, honestly.

Sometimes I am unkind and think there are only three decent dudes in the world: my father, my husband, and my brother in law.

I do not, but I absolutely know people who clean as a form of stress relief. Thing needs done, you do the thing, the thing is done, and results are obvious.

Nah, I think that’s strictly an American thing; at least I’ve never seen one in Canada.

Oh, this is a good idea! My spouse just bought a kg of it, I could totally do this.

You might want to ask a grandparent if someone in the family line betrayed the fae at some point, or forgot to invite the 13th fairy, gave their legal name to a mysterious old woman in the forest.

I went to my “wedding” (really, I signed some papers at my government employee husband’s office) in my good plaid, my clean jeans, and my battered, second hand, John Deere hat. We also had sushi after he got off work. Total cost? About 80$ish CAD, because my sister was in town and he bought her dinner too.

That is...an elaborate menu. My friend had Indian food at her wedding (as provided by the venue) and my sister went with a roast beef dinner. The end.

They can be fun, as long as you’re not hung up on it being “perfect.” I mean, I didn’t need a wedding, but some people like the party.

Same. I don’t think I’ve ever been in an airport with a Cinnabon. Or a Cinnzeo, for that matter.

Thank you, Claire.

My husband’s got that one. He did the elimination thing for a few years, because they had no idea what was going on, then said “fuck it” and has drugs now.

I will be your enemy! Um, your face looks like a wombat! You smell like a marine iguana! You have a stupid hat!