Our shopping trip on Super Bowl Sunday in San Diego kinda turned out to be a memorable event. Usually we have a picnic on the lawn of Mission Bay to watch the ocean and sail boats coming by. People around us rollerblading, walking, playing soccor. Just a community feeling. This day was much colder than it looked like with the sun shining, so we ended up eating our lunch in the car.
Before we went to dinner at one of the best Lebanese restaurants I know of, we stopped at Henri's Market for their amazingly fresh peanut-mixes.
Suddenly I remembered "ham hocks."
"I promised to take better care of myself when you are in class on Tuesday night. So, I'm gonna make green pea soup from scratch. I found a recipe on one of the blogs I read, so I need ham hocks", I told my hubby while walking to the meat department.
I had no idea how those things looked like, so I asked the man behind the counter if they had some.
"Yes, on the bottom shelf there should be some", he told me.
I look and look, and finally I find a package with the label "smoked pork ham hocks."
"Smoked," I thought, "that's good."
My hubby is trailing behind me, but not really searching for the item.
"Do they have something else?" I ask puzzled.
I am holding up the package to my hubby.
It says pork ham hocks.
Is it pork or is it ham?"
One of the corners of my hubby's mouth starts pulling toward his ear.
"I didn't realize I was being funny..."I thought.
Finally he says slowly, "It doesn't matter, does it?"
"Yes it does, I need HAM hocks.
I see on his eyes that he is doing his best not to laugh. And I am perplexed.
I continue, "If it's pork maybe this is not it."
Now, my hubby laughs openly, while saying,
"Whether it's pork or ham, it both comes from pig."
Still confused, I respond, "Well, I don't KNOW...I didn't grow up with pigs, horses, or cows (obviously he DID). I'm a city kid."
No wonder people were against us getting married. Different backgrounds, different race, different interests
(But none of the crazy predictions came true - we're on our 37th year now).
He laughs, and can't stop. He laughs all the way to the cash register. But he is nice. He tries to pull himself together when it's our turn to pay.
Leaving the store, he bursts out in laughing again. As he puts his arm around me, I sigh, "I'm glad we're having fun."
Go ahead, have a good laugh about it (and you may tell me so, too). I made worse mistakes than this! Now if we would have watched the Super Bowl, wouldn't it have been hard to come up with a funny story like this?
On Tuesday I did make my pea soup. Thank you dear blogger, it was well worth it.