"Hello," I answered in my groggy state.
"What kind of flour do you need? All purpose or Self-rising?" asked the familiar voice on the other end.
"Self-rising, I replied, "Love you."
"Love you, too," said the voice.
It was Hubs.
Y'all know I am picky about my biscuit flour. Mama has shipped it to me and brought it to me in person. I have run slap out and my people are starting to suffer.
When Hubs said he was going on a quick overnight work trip to the south, I asked him to buy some good biscuit flour.
On his way to the airport Saturday morning, he stopped in at Wal-mart to purchase my White Lily flour and, on a serious mission to find the right kind, called me on his cell phone to double check. After all, we're not talking about coming home with the wrong thing and driving back to the store to exchange it. We're talking about a plane ride across the country.
So, minutes after he went through the self check-out at Wal-mart, he boarded a plane with the goods.
This is what he brought home.
I'll be making biscuits every day, several times a day, for the next century. You'll notice the busted bag to the right. (You just can't trust the airlines with your precious cargo anymore.)
Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to run to Wal-mart and purchase 10 gallons of buttermilk.