Mr. B works with me. Mr. B is very talented, is not credited enough for his skills. On top of that, he's one heck of a nice guy. I adore Mr. B. He should be my son.
Mr. B had a bag of lemons on his desk, at least that was the info from his office partner in Mr. B's absence. I picked up and smelled those bright yellow orbs. Then he walks in. I was caught sniffing the goods. He explained they came from his tree at home, then graciously offered the bag of, the bag of LIMES. Yellow limes? These must be ripe.
Sam's Club is not my favorite place to shop. To be honest, outside of fabric shops or old-time hardware stores, I don't like to shop. OK, maybe the trip to the farmers' market. But since I HAD to be here, I wandered over to the cheese chest. Preparing to be disappointed again, my eyes carefully scanned the dairy assortment. And then, I heard the angels, "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh...". There was my cheese, MY cheese. It was back. Containing a happy dance, I picked up a block and hurried it to check out. No waiting, no pausing for any other item. This was my sole purchase, my soul purchase. I hugged the cheese all the way home.
Back at the hacienda, I carefully hid the block of gold in the refrigerator, away from Magic Man's hands that sleight. He will not make my cheese disappear, I will.
Look at all the lovely colors of heat in this cheese, the swirl of jack and cheddar. It is time for a midnight snack.