It wasn't a bad day today. We had a Sunday dinner at the "proper" dinner time in this country (= after the morning church service time), and watched a Forrest Gump DVD together afterwards.
BUT I'm very good at nit-picking somehow. Even on a lovely relaxing family day like this.
We decided to have some sausages for tea (= supper). Opening a plastic bag, I found there were 12 sausages inside. I bought them on Friday at the butcher's, and I'm 99.9999999% sure that I asked P for 6 steak sausages, not 12. Did I tell him 12 instead of 6? No. I don't usually buy that many sausages of one kind at one shopping, you know.
No, I'm not cross. And I won't mention this to P the next time I go to the shop, because I don't mind keeping their yummy sausages a few more than usual at home. I have a freezer, after all. But, in a way, it's funny that this was the second time that I didn't get what I asked for from the shop. Some weeks ago, I asked E for black peppercorn sausages, and found beef and leek ones in the bag after I got home. This time, I asked for 3 thick black peppercorn ones together with 6 steak ones. I got 3 peppercorn ones but ended up with 12 steak ones... (Black peppercorn ones tasted interesting.) It was not as if I was distracting them by chit-chatting to them or by looking attractive and sexy, you know.
Oh well, but I must say that they sell lovely sausages. No wonder I haven't bought any from other shops and supermarkets for some years.
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