Just like in restaurants (especially pre-COVID19), I like to keep it on the dining table next to the salt and pepper shakers. My wife is a ketchup-belongs-in-the-fridge whacko. I don’t like cold ketchup on hot food, she doesn’t care. For years it bounced back and forth, I’d leave it out, she’d put it away. When I went to put some on my food and she had won the latest bounce, it would be too cold for my liking. Our compromise is two bottles, mine stays out, hers stays in.
Thank you, along with the one-serve packets, I will acquiesce to your side, but I still have faith in the bottle on the table too.
(I don’t want shock my wife with any sudden, unexpected, and rare admission that she was right and I was wrong about something. Her heart might not take it.)
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Weirdo. I demand another divorce.
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I’ll bet you’ve been using mayonnaise behind my back, haven’t you? Is there some guacamole that you’d like to tell me about? You think about avocados when you’re making sandwiches for me, don’t you? Why does your internet search history have links to Vegemite-related websites? Grrrrrrrr.
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The sentence was started incorrectly. I don’t even know who you are any more. You get 100% of all the snow, I won’t be filing for visitation either.
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I hear you Canadians are trying to make it an Olympic sport. Unfair advantage.
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