I’m not pregnant (at least I don’t think I am), but I had a serious hankering for Swedish meatballs today. So after a few other stops in the morning, the boy and I went IKEA for lunch. I know, who goes to IKEA for lunch? That’s just weird. But hear me out: Swedish meatballs notwithstanding, have you ever had the french fries at IKEA? I don’t know what kind of devil lard they cook those things in, but they’re exceptionally tasty.

The boy asked if french fries are gluten-free, and I said I think so. The boy said, “I don’t think these french fries are gluten-free.” I said, Whatevs. The boy said, “What’s whatevs?” I said, It means whatever. The boy said, “That sounds silly!” I said, Yeah, that’s the point.

Oh, and I bought a small mat-slash-rug thing for the kitchen. Do normal people put rugs in kitchens? Or is that tantamount to covering your sofa with plastic, like they do in finer homes or at my grandma’s house? Did I just turn into my grandmother with the rug in the kitchen? I have no idea.

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