Helllllllllloooo!

As I originally stated with this weekly installment: Tasty Tuesdays means that I’m no expert… AND we need to have fun with this topic too!!

So?

Let’s talk baby carrots….

My mom believes that baby carrots are a lie. She thinks that they’re deformed carrots with the bad parts cut out to make them appear as “babies.” This is a massive quality issue to her. Yup. She said this when I asked if it’s a moral issue. But you could argue that quality and moral can be within the same wheelhouse.

Me? I love getting my groceries at Costco cuz it’s efficient: one big trip with food lasts for days and sometimes up to years. Nice. BUT BUT BUT their packages can be a big commitment to a single product like for instance… baby carrots. Two massive pouches. I’ve bought them twice. And I pawned off one pouch on Mom the first time. This is where I learned of her stance around baby carrots.

Truth?

I had not given them that much thought… After all? They’re baby carrots. How much bandwidth does one devote to carrot parts regardless of their age? But? Mom kept it real: She devoted exhaustive thought to their deeper meaning. Heck. We should have another “salon” to dig into these nuances. If you’re not familiar with “salon” in this capacity? It’s where people sit around to discuss the deeper meaning of things. Mom was super excited cuz we did this last Sunday at our weekly breakfast to discuss a levels within a variety of topics. I honestly thrive on these kinds of conversations since I live digging into layers. Fingers crossed that we’ll have more.

I digress.

And this is where the real melodrama of the baby carrots began… I bought another packet of baby carrots cuz of course??? I wanted to be far more deliberate in my research as to their true state. And if you haven’t noticed? I love doubling down when Mom challenges me. To be fair??? She does the same to me.

To help me with my weekend work, I make a big ole pot of something in the crockpot. I forgot to add the baby carrots to my chicken veggie soup. Yes. I successfully finished that first pouch. My conclusion? Baby carrots are carrots. Well? My stepdad has GERD. I boiled off the carrots with a touch of cinnamon, pinch of salt, and raisins. I lugged those fuckers over to Mom’s place for breakfast. Yup. I managed to spill some of their water on my coat.

My stepdad took a polite amount of the carrots. Mom refused on principle. No one would take any of them home. My stepdad’s words? They’re bland as shit. I didn’t want to activate his GERD. Salt, pepper, and butter saved my serving. Butter is such a gift.

Know what I’m going to do with the rest? Make carrot cake. Mom looooooooooooooooooooooooooooves carrot cake. She has agreed to sample the cake. If you know how big Mom’s bites are when she “samples???”

I have won the battle!!! Bahaha!!

As always: Have a glamorous day for fun!!

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