If loving avocado is wrong, I don’t want to be right

I’m not writing an ode.  Not my thing.  But I do love avocado.  It makes just about everything better.  My sandwich today (because brace yourselves – I MADE MY LUNCH TODAY) would have been a little dry and boring were it not for the delicately green slices of avocado I added.  Perfectly ripe, perfectly wonderful.  I think a plain turkey and mayo sandwich can be pretty great (I need to get out more), but not so much when the bread is on its way out.  I think my bread is mutant bread.  I bought it in early-ish February (it’s sell-by date was Feb 17th), and it has lived in two pantries (we moved it from the house), and it has yet to go moldy or stale.  It’s getting a tiny bit dry and crumbly, but I wouldn’t call it stale yet.  And if it’s mutant bread, well, I haven’t noticed any mutant effects on me, so I’m not going to worry about it.  I’m already putting too much thought into this bread.

Avocado.  I love it on sandwiches, I love it in salads, I love it in all things Mexican.  I ask for extra if I’m ordering something that already comes with avocado (and if something on a menu comes with avocado, I’m almost guaranteed to order it), and I ask for it to be added if it doesn’t already come with it.  I’m terribly disappointed if a sandwich shop doesn’t carry it.  That’s just wrong.  I have no idea what season is avocado season (oh, hey, it’s year-round depending on where they come from – hooray!), but I foresee lots of avocado in my kitchen.

I am a pretty pretty princess, and I can have more avocado if I want it.