So, I'm not going to talk about my father's computer. I'm not going to talk about how he installed and uninstalled the same program so many times that the whole machine broke down. I'm not going to talk about how I tried everything in my power to get them back and connected to the world, while constantly listening about how he never gets any help and he's all alone and drowning without any computer help. I'm not going to talk about how I spent $992.74 to get him a new computer while he puttered with his really old one only to have him say he doesn't like it and want me to take it back. These are all the things I'm not going to talk about because it would just irritate me. So Wednesday night I gave Sweetpea one of his Christmas presents. I let him stay at home in his sweatpants and watch television while I braved traffic and other holiday shoppers to pick up some more of our last minute presents. I let him eat leftover chinese food (damn you, Rich) while I went out for pho. So he got a little present of being a slug while I went out for the both of us.
I have become addicted to pho. I should get those patches like they have for smokers to put on my arm only with cilantro instead of nicotine in them. Any given night if you ask me what I could eat for dinner, I'll happily answer pho. The Vietnamese dudes know me by name there. My main problem has been that for like two weeks I haven't had much appetite. Don't know if it was work or the computer that we're not talking about or the weather or what. But I would eat almost nothing. So the fact that pho appealed to me was a miracle in itself.
The greatest thing about Pho '79 where I get my fix is that it's across the street from Krispy Kreme. What follows up Vietnamese noodle soup and peanut sauce better than a hot glazed donut and a pint of milk? Nothing, I tell you. Absolutely nothing.