I’m talking about cheese again. But it’s not my fault. I live in a country with about 400 cheeses. We’re all about the cheese here. This is what happened…
Friday morning we awoke to a snowy icy village. Too much snow and ice for The Husband to drive to work (the roads in and out of Le Petit Village can get real bad, real quick, and don’t get salted). Snow day. Now last year The Husband had a snow day, and since that one drove me batty, I learned my lesson. I had a plan; as soon as The Husband starts to go stir crazy (which he will) get him out of the house.
The Husband was stir crazy by 8:30 (it doesn’t take long). Time to put my plan into motion; I steered him in the direction of Honey Jr’s next door (pretty good plan, no?). A few minutes later The Husband returned with his own plan. Brother-in-Law was also at Honey Jr’s (I’m guessing he was stir crazy too and Child Bride and I have the same plan). The three of them put their boy heads together and decided that a snow day should be celebrated. And it should be celebrated with cheese. That’s right, cheese. We celebrated our snow day with not only a Raclette, but Fondue too.
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