Spaghetti

I made a big pot of spaghetti this afternoon. When I talked with Bernice she and I conferred that both of us hate to cook. When Ken asks what is for dinner, I just hang my head. He is such a good sport about. Bernice's husband last evening asked if she wanted to go out for something. No, she didn't. He told her to write on a piece of paper what she wanted to do. He said he wrote on a paper what he wanted. She told him she didnt have to write, she just knew she wanted to stay home and grab what may be around. She opened Bud's paper and it said, " Cold Cereal!"

They stayed home and both were happy.

Anyway, when I saw how much spaghetti grew in my pan, I called her and asked if when we go to get Isaiah tonight, would she like us to bring our spaghetti and eat together. So soon, we will pick up our pan and go to their house.