I made chicken fried rice the other night. Of course I didn't discover that we have no soy sauce until the very end. Chicken fried rice actually tastes pretty decent with teriyaki sauce. Really. But it tastes *soooo* much better with soy sauce. Sigh.
The lack of soy sauce wasn't the main reason for our after-dinner grocery run, but you'll be happy to know that we did remember to grab a bottle while we were there. Actually, the main reason was to get milk. Oh, and cereal, since *someone* (we won't mention any names) went and ate all the Caramel Crunch Crispex before I got more than a handful or two.
And while we were searching the cereal aisle for a replacement box, I had to pay a visit to the Pop Tarts. I gave a little sigh of fond remembrance to the days when I used to be able to eat them without caring that two measly tarts would ruin my meager allotment of Points for the day. However, my trip down calorie-laden memory lane was momentarily disrupted by the discovery that Pop Tarts now come in even more fun and fascinating flavors - Oreo Cookie, and Chips Ahoy.
Richard and I have officially decided that food eaten in the name of scientific research has no points. Our most recent scientific research allows me to report to you that while the Chips Ahoy Pop Tart is certainly tasty, the Brown Sugar Cinnamon ones still beat it hands-down.
So anyway, speaking of Pop Tarts, Richard and I are members of the church choir. He sings bass and I sing tenor. Yes - not the usual part for a female, but what can I say.
The alto part just ends up being too high, and while I can't always hit the bottom notes of the tenor range, it usually suits me just fine. However, this does leave me in the unique position of being the lone woman in an otherwise completely male section of the choir. Every once in a while I make a half-hearted stab at equality and try to get the director-of-the-moment to *not* refer to the tenors and basses as 'the men', but usually I just let it slide, or crack jokes about how I always take my testosterone shot before I sing.
Sunday morning, however, the director was leading us through one of the more difficult parts of the anthem. After having just the sopranos and altos sing for a while, he finally turned to us, and in an attempt to avoid that whole male/female issue I was harping about above, he said:
"All right. Now I want the men and the tenors to sing."
Amid the laughter I turned to the rest of my section - all men.
"You know," I pointed out, "I'm fine with that, but I think you all might want to be offended."
That poor choir director. It just isn't a real practice if we haven't managed to get him doubled over in laughter at least once.