True Grit

Tonight I went grocery shopping, because, well...the kids just seem to want to EAT, like, all the time. Which is really irritating in and of itself, but it also means I have to shop, drag shit home and put it all away. After work, too. (I'll try to contain my enthusiasm for that little excursion, we have all been there, done that.)

So, in a fit of idiocy, I bought a 5lb sack of grits. Not the smaller container in the sturdy, oatmeal-style cardboard cannister, no, I bought the giant-sized economy bag. Why not, right? Hell I love me some grits, and anyway I was out. Where I live, grits are even considered a vegetable, they're CORN, aren't they? They practically burn you at the stake here in the Deep South if you don't eat your weight in grits a year. Not that I am complaining, heavens no. I mean, YUM, grits, cheesy, garlicky, buttery, with bacon, next to eggs, topped with shrimp...grits are fabulous, am I right?

Except when you accidentally somehow rip a hole in your stupid, giant, jumbo sack of grits and pour them out like sand all over your floor, not paying attention, and them have to spend hours sweeping and vacuuming your kitchen floor because grits are so, well....gritty.