Earlier in the week, I found fresh bialys at the market, so I bought three. For breakfast Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday. And I get home and slap my forehead. “I forgot to buy cream cheese!” ARGH! What good are bialys without cream cheese? I don’t know either.
So all week those naked bialys have been sitting in the fridge, burning a hole in my appetite. (Yes, I can mix metaphors better than you.)
Last night I went shopping to entertain myself with pretty colors, and I got tired, and I got in the car to come home, and I remembered the bialys. And thought about all the hassle of going to the supermarket just for cream cheese. And my scary brain, which was tired, thought,
“Is there a drive-thru cream cheese place?”
I thought that. And by the Gods there should be. But it turns out, not so much.
I went to the supermarket. Such is life.
Dunkin’ Donuts? Couldn’t they grab it for you out of the fridge? Drive right thru? (Note the activity-appropropriate spelling of ‘thru’.)
My bagel obsession also keeps me buying cream cheese endlessly. Like dishwasher detergent, I always keep a backstock; continually aware that I must NEVER RUN OUT. It’s become weird. Not saying that I have become weird, because, well, that would be a silly statement. But the ongoing cream cheese influx has become undeniably weird.
Cream cheese, it comes and goes. Sometimes it turns green. It needs the good bialys or the Miami rolls.
I didn’t think of Dunkin’.
I’m fairly resourceful when it comes to dairy products.
For which you can be proud.
As a peacock!!!
I vote that we put Roberta in charge of all our dairy needs.
This will make Roberta happy.
cool