So, in one of the strangest requests I've ever made of anyone, I left a message at home for Mr:
"Could you please take a picture of the root beer pulled pork leftovers before you put it in the trash?"
And my darling man complied. With no questions.
Probably because it's hard to get answers out of a voicemail message. And he's used to how crazy I am.
And yes, I said Root Beer Pulled Pork. Wasted. At least a sandwich's worth. You have to know how much it's vexing me.
In my defense - if I allow myself one - we made an enormous amount for Mr's parents. Enormous.
