One nice crisp day when my car was in the shop, I took the loaner over to the nearest mall to hang out and work on my book. And maybe stroll around some shops a bit. Eventually hunger grabbed my attention, so I wandered around until I found the food court.
Let’s see… something with lots of veggies, not too high in fat… it’s a little chilly for a cold sandwich…
After circling three-fourths of the food court something snagged my subconscious. Not sure what it was, I stopped walking and turned my head. There, on a countertop easel not six feet from me, sat the little sign.
You must know two things:
1) Lobster bisque is my favorite soup, perhaps my favorite food, of all time.
2) I very rarely have any of this rich treat.
There I stood while the other options, the rest of the food court–in fact, the whole mall–
all faded away, along with any thought of my former health-conscious criteria. That ol’ crustacean had me caught in its claws. Nothing existed but me and a huge pot of
And maybe a nice glass of sweet tea.
Oh, yeah. It was delicious.
Brent and a couple of colleagues had flown to Houston that morning for a meeting. When would he get home? I could hardly wait to tell him about my exotic, ambrosia-like lunch. Of course, I only hoped it would not make him too envious.
Eventually the lobster-induced coma wore off, the dealer called, I collected my car and made my way back to Midlothian. The little town seemed so humdrum after having eaten Lobster Bisque for lunch.
Brent pulled in around seven. I rushed to the garage to meet him and gave him a big hug. “You’ll never guess what I had for lunch…”
“What was it?”
I grabbed him by the shoulders. “I had Lobster Bisque!” The magic words sparkled in the air between us.
“Huh–cool, that’s what I had for lunch too!”
How does he do that?
Thanks for reading!
Today I am linking up with my Soli Deo Gloria sisters over at Jen’s.