There's a lot of old (and I mean super old, not old like you think you are mom) single ladies in the ward. Occasionally we're lucky enough to be fed by them. This week we arrived to this tiny lady's home, which is about an hour bus ride from our house and on the hill
where I think Heidi lived with her mountain goats.
She introduced the meal by telling us that she cooked chicken but didn't like the smell of it and proceeded to offer us three choices of tinned meat:
MmmmHMM. Sister N thankfully got straight to the point and just said, "please anything but the ox tongue."
The lady laid out some meat straight from a tin, (think spam style) and went back into the kitchen to pull out the overcooked cauliflower. Sister K and I bravely put pieces of meat on our tray* but Sister N took one look at the cold meat, complete with weird bits of jelly on top and put them straight into the hidden compartment on her water bottle.
Mum - on an entirely unrelated note: can I get a new waterbottle? One with hidden compartment maybe?
By this point in time we couldn't look at each other without busting up so we spent the rest of the meal concentrating very hard on the stories this sweet old lady was telling about her life.
Moral of story: if you're going to endure meals like that, I hope you have a companion with a good sense of humor.
I'm pretty sure I ate cat food.
*why were we eating on trays? because she brought out the trays and all the food and didn't remember until halfway through the meal that we needed plates too.