I am at work today and I get a message from Sporty Spice (Jamie Shelton has a nickname!! Can be sport. Sporty. Spice…depending on the mood. After all she is sporty.) She said "We made monkey bread!!" and Had this photo:
Aren't they the cutiest things you have ever seen?
I was pretty excited and since Lauren (the girl at work who asked if I lived in a commune) is interested in all things #Village I showed her the picture. She said "Monkey Bread?" I have never had monkey bread. She needs to bring us some! So she did.
Yep. Drove her shiny white mini van straight up in the drive thru and gave me the whole plate full (minus what they ate already)
Like manna from heaven. We all ate monkey bread. And the world was right. And my mouth and belly were happy. And I ate some for dessert at my break. And my heart was thankful. For monkey bread. And a sweet friend who came by to bring it on the way to deliver her children to camp this morning.
And so did Lauren. And she wishes to express her thankfulness to all you bloggy followers
We shared with the other folk. Amazed at how many people had never had monkey bread. And not the buy in the freezer kind (its not real). My first intro was in California the summer of 94. The guys next door would make it for us in the microwave. Really gooey and goodness.
There was some left so I brought it home. And carefully put it on the kitchen cabinet and shoved it back as far as I could to keep it out of THE dogs reach. I speak specifically of one out of three I am housesitting. THE dog with leaping and grabbing off the cabinet because standing she is forty feet tall.
I was going to finish off my day with this amazingness.
And then this is what I saw:
Please note:
Plate is not shoved into the corner.
Plastic wrap hanging off the front of the cabinet.
Dishrag draped over corner of plate.
NO monkey bread.
I almost cried.
Instead I got out some raspberry yogurt. And washed the plate.
Hope Roz is happy. And I better not see that monkey bread again on the floor tonight. Or I may really cry.
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