Opposite of A Complaint

Welcoming new fancy tea store to the neighbourhood.

Salesgirl pulled delightful novelty teas off the shelf with panache- Do you like popcorn? Try our Movie-goer's tea!

Offered alternatives to each tea - If you liked Chili Chai, you'll love Chili Chai Chocolate!

Couldn't decide whether to go for the Oolong, It'll Change Your Life or Moroccan Mint, You'll Feel the Sunshine.

Then salesgirl dropped a bombshell.

If you get the Sleigh Bell, dried fruit and nut tea with real cinnamon sticks!, you can re-use the tea to flavour your oatmeal the next morning.

Re-use? Oatmeal? Sounds too good to be true.

Fell for it, hook, line and $42.99 later.

(Not all on tea, silly. Bought a few Christmas gifts while I was there. OK, fine, tea Christmas gifts, but still.)

Have to admit.  Worked perfectly. Tea great.

Saved tea bag.

Opened it next morning and threw into oatmeal.

Delicious.

Remarkable Things About This Story:

1. People will buy tea with actual popped kernels of corn in it despite absolutely no evidence, circumstantial or otherwise, that popcorn, when steeped in hot water, will produce a tasty drink
2. Sales people in fancy tea store appear to have spent more time in training than some emergency room staff
3. Training includes tips for how to re-use tea bags.
4. Tea bag re-use turned out to be as absolutely delicious as it sounded
5. I can find absolutely nothing about this transaction to complain about

Internet Is a Total Enabler

6:45am.  Open eyes.  Full work day ahead.

Nine people for Friday Night dinner.

Crockpot solution.

Curry chicken with coriander (fresh) and toasted cashews (using walnuts).

6:49 am. Start throwing things into slow cooker.

7:08am Take B to bus stop and Realize that I didn't throw in curry sauce.  Further realize that I don't have any jarred sauce, I used it all up last time I relied on crockpot for emergency Book Club dinner.

7:14 am. Look up curry sauce and find many options. 

Oh, good, have all the ingredients.  Take out food processor. Take out fresh veggies.  Start chopping.

7:33am.  Wait a second, what's this Garam Masala?  An Indian spice?  Have I ever bought this before?

7:48am.  Wiping down shelf, re-arranging jars. No Garam Masala.

7:56am . Look up Garam Masala.  It is indeed a blend of 7 Indian spices.  Turns out I have them all. (Also turns out they are all on my counter.)

A few half teaspoons and two Tablespoons later I have more Garam Masala than I have ever wanted.

I have a crockpot full of curry chicken.

I also have a meeting in twenty minutes, two kids I forgot to wake up and get ready for school, and the unmistakeable stench of curry powder emanating from my every pore.

Internet, you make it too damn easy.

Why couldn't you have just told me to order a pizza?

Yes In the End I Found the Shoe

You know how sometimes you look everywhere for your keys and they are right in the inside pocket of your purse where they belong?

Or you say to yourself I wish I had thought to put blue Excel chewing gum in my glove compartment, and you open your glove compartment and there it is?

My sister in law has a great expression for that.

She calls it being your own best friend.

Yesterday morning I couldn't find my Chuck Taylor Lichtenstein Converse very appropriate work shoes.

I'm a huge liar.

I actually found one sneaker but for the life of me couldn't find its mate. 

Offered a prize to whomever could locate second shoe.

Thought about the time I inadvertently donated a single orange winter boot to the Goodwill.

Finally crouched on hands and knees in closet, vowing to overturn every --

Wait a second, is that a Zellers  Holt Renfrew bag, poking out from the corner?

Shift over plastic rubbermaid tub very well organized cedar chest of purses.

Two awesome Hanukah gifts. Vintage 2011.

Found just in time.

Turns out I am not only my own best friend, but my own Santa Claus too.

Does this mean I get to bake myself cookies?

Wonder What the Spanish Menu Says

Montreal landmark restaurant recently reopened.

Saturday lunch with kids.

G orders burger and baked potato.

That will be extra, says Waiter.

I wouldn't mind springing for a baked, I tell Waiter. But according to menu, burger comes with choice of baked or fries.

Sorry, Waiter says. French menu says burger comes with fried or mashed.

Polite chuckles all around.  We'll take the baked.

Husband's turn to order.

Wants burger and fries.

10 oz burger? Asks Waiter.

No, says Husband.  Here on menu burger is 8 oz.

On French menu, says Waiter, burger is 10oz.

More polite chuckles.

G's burger comes.  With fries.

Excuse me sir, I think he ordered the baked.

Oh.  Kitchen having trouble getting used to English menu too.

Look over at next booth.

Another family having lunch.  He's drinking a pint of beer. She's having a vodka orange.

On the English menu, they ordered diet Cokes.