Wednesday, December 17, 2008

My kind of pickle.

Alright, so maybe every dill pickle is my kind of pickle.
But this morning (yes, morning) I really wanted a pickle, but I felt held back
by social stigma. Although I wouldn't have to tell anyone that I ate pickles for breakfast,
what would people think if they knew?

However, as I opened the fridge *just to look* at the pickles,
I noticed something on the lid I'd never seen before:

That's right...

I mean, I'm an adult, and the lid of the pickle jar told me it's ok, so
please don't judge me.

It's just my kind of pickle.

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