So see if you can follow me on this one.
My wife grabbed a bag of sugar out of the pantry, something about needing to mix it with some kind of exfoliant stuff she’s been using. Rather than put the sugar back in the pantry, she’s been storing it… in Maria’s old cat carrier. Which is plenty clean, but it’s just an awfully strange place to park a sack of sugar, y’know?
After walking by this strange sight numerous times, I finally asked her “What’s up with the caged sugar?” And she told me.
So help me, I still think it’s a weird thing to do. So I’ve taken to walking past it and saying “CAGED SUGAR!” in a deep, Blaxploitation-movie-trailer voice, followed by bow-chicka-wow music, because it sounds for all the world like a freakin’ women’s prison-break flick from the ’70s.
We’re weird.
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