The Craving
Last week, the Pres was on a delivery for the farm and (Heaven only knows why), I was craving rotisserie chicken. Hours passed as I tried to dismiss the aroma and taste from from my senses. It was useless so I finally slipped on my shoes and headed to our WalMart since it was closer than Stop and Shop and Big Y.
Of course, it was only 9:30 in the morning but since I get up so early, 11:00 am is lunch time and I was hungry. Walking up to the deli, I asked when the chickens would be ready. "Ninety minutes," she said, walking away. There was no way my stomach was going to make another forty minutes! Still drooling, I immediately headed to the register to check out my other things, got in my car and head to Big Y.
Well, don't you know I no sooner got up to the deli at Big Y and a young fellow was just loading the display case labelled HOT. Holy moosepoops, it smelled outrageous!
WOOT! WOOT! Taking in that aroma through my mask I headed to the register with my fresh out of the rotisserie golden brown, juicy, savory chicken and couldn't wait to get home and dive in.
Placing the bag on the seat next to my purse, I started the car and began driving. When I went to round the last corner, apparently I was in too much of a rush to dive in, because my golden brown, juicy, savory rotisserie chicken flew off the front seat and landed on the floor upside down.
seeing, saying, sharing...
The Craving
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