John and I bought olive oil when we went to the store the other night, and I expressed regret that we can’t just buy Wegmans extra virgin olive oil like we used to. We’ve been not so lucky at picking out other relatively inexpensive olive oils over the last few years. (There are a lot of really boring olive oils out there, and some of the more exciting ones aren’t great for general use. I feel like Goldilocks.) We have a Wegmans within reach, if you consider an hour and 15 minutes one-way to be within reach. I don’t. I actually considered asking Emily to buy us some so John could bring it back this weekend when he drives up with our stuff from the storage unit. We picked something since we’ll need it this week, I don’t remember which brand, and shortly after we got home, John said, “I think we owe my mom a really big thank you.” Of course we do, for any number of things, so I asked for a few more details in my own articulate fashion. “Huh?”
She gave us a housewarming basket with a bunch of traditional housewarming gifts, all with their own meanings, and one of the items is olive oil (“May you be blessed with health and well-being”). WEGMANS OLIVE OIL.
THANK YOU, PAT!
All is well with the world.