Baby, you can drive my car...

Today is Mrs. Wiggy's super-fantastic birfday. I am about as happy as I can possibly be! Birfdays are nice, and even better - someone else's birfday.

So today at work is the once-a-month potluck lunch. Ever buddy brings in something to eat, and at about noon, we all go over and stuff ourselves on strange food that we hardly recognize. The potential for abuse is enormous.

Mrs. Wiggy, bless her, decided to assist me when I announced to all and sundry that I would bring in 'Boiled Weasel' and 'Some Kind of Brown Stuff.' She made a couple of enormous crockpots full of Taco Soup, a most wonderous concoction that makes ol' Wiggy holler with joy. But it looks like something found in a vat in a ditch near a mad scientist's lair. Perfect.

I brought it in this morning and proudly labeled it - Boiled Weasel & Some Kind of Brown Stuff and set it up on the back table.

So far, not one laugh. Apparently, people around here just take their Boiled Weasel too seriously.

Best,

Wiggy

PS - And wish Mrs. Wiggy a Happy Birfday, dad nab it!