You gotta love instant access these days. Or curse it. My husband is on the road, and he, as he’s prone to do, sends me a text message about where he’s eating. Today he’s having BBQ in Austin, TX and it…I’m quoting….”ROCKS!”
Now, he knows I’m off to lunch today at a place that doesn’t “rock.” How fair is that? Actually, I’m happy that he is a) having a rocking lunch, and b) loves me enough to send me a text about it with the website link so I can fully appreciate the experience he’s having.
I would much rather be in Texas at the moment with him, barbecue slathered on my chin, but at least I can visualize him eating my state food…(however, instead of brisket or ribs, he probably ordered something silly like chicken or turkey… he’s healthy that way. Me? Not so much.)
For anyone in Texas at the moment, he’s at Ironworks BBQ. He’s the only one in the joint with a plate of chicken and side of salad.