since being diagnosed with celiac sprue (look it up) i have struggled finding things that, ahem, settle in my digestive system. so when i do, you are darn tootin' that i consume as much as i can.
so this particular morning, i am grubbing through the fridge, desperately wanting a bowl of cocco pebbles, but knowing it is absolutely NOT worth the hassle.and i happen upon last nite's leftover pork chops. nom nom nom. i sealed one in a ziplock baggie and went on my merry way.
after dropping the kids at school i find myself extroidinarily famished. dying even. and thinking the po' chop is looking mighty fine.
at the next stop light i snare it from the passenger seat, remove the plastic and gingerly wrap the baggie around it so as not to cover myself in meat juice. i continue to drive, gnoshing on my tasty chopsicile, happy as a clam. breakfast never tasted so fantastic.
until three bites in i drop the damn thing on the floor, under the gas pedal. i think i may have cried the rest of the way to work.
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