Last night I decided to make shepherds pie.
I thought to myself, "It's been a long time since I made shepherds pie, why don't I make shepherds pie, anymore?"
So I made the shepherd's pie, and it was pretty. (If I do say so myself.)
And then I ate that shepherds pie and I remembered.
Yeah, that's right. I remembered.
I remembered that I hated shepherds pie and I remembered my oldest brother calling it shepherds poop.
And now I sit eating the leftovers (cause I'm the only one who will eat leftovers) and I have the urge to say "Shepherd's poop!" with verying inflections.
"Shepherds pooooooooop!!!!"
"Shepheeeeeeeerds poop!!!"
"Shepherds poooooopppppppp!!!"
And that is why I don't make shepherds pie anymore.
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4 comments:
I like it. But Trevor doesn't. Made it one night, and it was a total waste. Trevor SAYS he likes it "ok" but if he doesn't eat the leftovers, then--THEN I know the truth!
You are smokin doobies again aren't you.
No doobies. Just adrenaline and sweat.
I tried to make that once when we were first married and justin lifted up the lid and said: "woman..what have you done?!" I've never made it since.
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