Pho me

So.  Hubby is on new pain meds.  He needs to have food in his stomach before he can take them so as we left the pharmacy and headed home I was thinking about what we had in the fridge that I could put together quickly so he could take his pills and be relieved of the agony.

I determined what I could make the quickest was a stop at a take-out place . . .

Everyone at work has been going on and on about the Pho take-out place across the street.  And I saw Robin's Pho noodle leftovers one day--they looked and smelled delicious!  Plus, she told me how inexpensive and convenient it was.  I decided that's what I'd do in this pinch.

Only I didn't know how to order.  The menu is written in Vietnamese (or something.  I'm not sure.)  And yes, they have English translations but I didn't catch that right away.  I ordered what I thought was the same thing that Robin had had but it seemed a bit more expensive than she'd promised.  And then moments after ordering and paying and after the kitchen had already received my order and started on it, I realized I was getting soup and not noodles.  And I knew how my hubby feels about suspicious oriental soup.

When I got into the car with the goods he took one whiff and asked, "what did you buy?" 

"It's soup!" I cheerfully replied.

"I thought you were getting noodles."

"Yeah," I let the sparkling facade go.  It wasn't fooling him.  "But I didn't understand the menu." 

"It smells like a diaper."

"It's beef soup!  It will be fine.  I also got egg rolls.  I wanted to get some food in your stomach quickly."

"So you bought me poop soup?  There better not be any beaks staring up at me when I take the lid off."

"I already told you, it's beef soup."

"Like I said, there better not be any beaks staring up at me."

The pain has not affected Hubby's distrustful nature : )