Make of it what you will.

We were out for a little drive earlier today;  we slept in a little, headed south to Beamsville to collect some new riding boots from the Greenhawk store there, stopped for breakfast at one of our favorite little haunts, the Open Kitchen in Stoney Creek, drove up the new Red Hill Valley Parkway for the first time, then headed out to Dundas to pick up some horse blankets that had been cleaned for us.   We took a little detour on the way home from Dundas to see if we could find any place for sale that might satisfy the Known Requirements and Specifications for the Kingdom of Juniorvania (we are looking for a new house).

Anyway, after a while, conversation had kind of trailed off and we were driving along quietly.  Spouse had lapsed into a reflective reverie of sorts, and I felt it rude to interrupt her mental journey.   We passed quite some time without speaking to one another, the radio softly playing in the background.

“Meat lasagna!” Spouse exclaimed, shattering the tranquility inside the vehicle. 

I paused for a moment and asked my brain to please confirm for me that my wife had just spent fifteen minutes thinking about something only to blurt out “meat lasagna.”

“Yes, ‘meat lasagna’ is what she said – ears are functioning” said my brain.

I allowed that little fact to sink in for a moment and said, “Wait – What?”

Spouse explained that she had been thinking about something completely different [surprise! not thinking about carnivore pasta dishes!] when she had espied a truck driving down the opposite side of the highway from us. 

“What, you didn’t see it?” she asked me.

“Um.  No.” 

“Well, I guess if you didn’t see the truck, hearing me say ‘meat lasagna’  would probably be a little strange,” she allowed.

Yes. It would.

By junior

Guitar owner and silly person.