Posted by: illinigirl | February 3, 2010

Ketchup

My mom reminded me of a lovely story today. . .

When I was younger (but not too young. . . probably early high school?), my family was eating at the Tavern.  Our family friend, Pedro, who was also an owner of the restaurant was sitting with us.

My food came, and I was STRUGGLING to get the ketchup out of the bottle. . . *hit*hit*hit*SHAKE*SHAKE*.  .  . whoooooooa.  The entire bottle went flying into. . . Pedro’s shirt.  Neat.

Also, the ketchup was coming out of the bottle pretty well by then.  I wanted to die.

I don’t know if Pedro ever chose to sit across from me again.  :\

Please note that my name means “Grace.”. . . um, yeah. . . not so much for me!

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