Over the Deep End

I think my mom has gone crazy. The way she told it to me was that she was pulling into the drive-thru Starbucks that she had just found not to far from work when her eyes glanced over a sign for a new taquería opening up. Thinking to herself "Not another taco place," when her eyes continued across the next word on the sign,  "pupusería" her brain started screeching "Ding, ding, ding, JACKPOT!" You see a pupusería is a restaurant that makes pupusas. A pupusa is an El Salvadorean delicacy (it's not delicate at all, but mom insists I use that word. Really it's just a food) that my mom fell in love with six years ago. One of her student's moms would bring her this dish several times a year each time one of her two sons was in her class. Mom looked into finding an El Salvadorean restaurant or even downloaded the recipe for it and the cabbage "curtido" and hot sauce served with it. She never followed through and now she doesn't have to. The silly woman has eight pupusas sitting in our fridge right now. It's as if she was afraid the pupusería would go out of business over night. She bought enough for five meals. Silly, silly woman. 

And did she consider us when placing her order? Not at all! There were pupusas with meat that she could have ordered.  But because she's one of those horrific vegetarians (I'm not lying! I've watched her, never a morsel of meat passes between her lips!), she didn't buy us anything. 

At least she did go back to the store and stock us up on Fancy Feast. Because of that, her bed doesn't need to be "scented".