Um, whoops.

Mom is visiting, and she's been trying to feed herself from the dregs in our kitchen. Today she tried to have some bread (moldy), and then some leftover pizza (old and odd), and then resorted to some bologna (which she hasn't had for years). Bologna needs mustard, though, right? And she proceeded to pull not one, not two, but three *empty* jars of mustard out of the damn fridge. The only kind left was this Tarragon Dijon, which, as she determined, does not really go with Oscar Mayer.

We still have a lot of cheese puffs, and frozen meat. Lots and lots of frozen meat.