Yesterday was a whirlwind of travel, putting us at one friend’s house for the afternoon, then shuffling off to another friend’s house for the night. I guess Otto hadn’t been entirely clear with this group of pals as to when we’d be where, so although they were delighted to have us (and OH MY GOD I had the best meal of my LIFE last night; I am thinking of asking his friends to come move in with us, because: EMERIL’S POTATO CASSEROLE), the hosts who were keeping us for the night hadn’t actually made up the guest bed yet.
So we’d watched the first half of the Patriots game at the first house (actually, they watched while I glanced up between working, which they were remarkably tolerant of) (that’s why I write for a living, because me write pretty, what with ending sentences with “of” and such) and then driven to the next town over during halftime to the other house. When we arrived, our hostess was making up the bed, and we brought our stuff in and I started to help.
Otto was looking pretty antsy, probably because the game had resumed and he wanted to see the rest. I figured by helping with the sheets and such, we’d get it done sooner and could get back to the game. (Plus, I was finally done working and could actually WATCH the game.)
“Now this bed,” said our hostess, snapping a sheet, “you have to be a little bit careful, because it doesn’t like to stay square.
Otto and I exchanged a questioning look.
“Um, does it make other shapes? CAN IT BE ROUND?” I asked.
She laughed. “No, see what happens here? If you move the mattress too much—” and she demonstrated, giving the mattress a small nudge, “—this happens.” And just like that, the headboard posts—this is a lovely, wrought-iron canopy bed with tall posts—slanted forward in a precarious manner. She maneuvered her knee against the mattress and shoved the frame back towards the wall, and the whole thing resumed an appropriate stance.
Otto nodded but didn’t say anything.
I flashed a big grin at him. “HEY OTTO!” I said, “I know what we’re NOT doing tonight!”
Our hostess choked back a laugh while Otto shook his head at me and turned to his friends. “This is my wife,” he said, “she has NO FILTER.”
Dude. You didn’t marry me for my filter.
Filters are overrated. Especially if you’re hilarious.
All Adither is correct: hilarious trumps filtering everytime!
I’m glad you don’t have a filter… I don’t have one either. Our husbands should start a club.
Also, Emeril’s Potato Casserole sounds suspiciously like Fat Potato Fat Fat. (I would like to have a big vat of it right now.)
You rock!! Glad the hostess laughed though, or that coulda been awkward.
My MIL made Emeril’s Potato Casswerole for Christmas dinner and oh my word I have never eaten so much of one thing in my life. I really just wanted to fill my plate up with that and ignore everything else, but since I was at the in-laws I decided to go ahead and have a few veggies and some ham. Wouldn’t want them to think I’m crazy.
I am so making that potato casserole for New Year dinner. Yummy. I have no filter either, FYI.
My “filter” gets weaker as I get tireder. Is that a word? It is now.
Jenn, don’t you mean SUPPORT GROUP?!HAHA My husband, too, came without a filter. He is hilarious, if occasionally embarassing.
Glad you’re having fun :)
3/4 lb bacon in the potato casserole = yummy
filterless, funny Mir = Excellent
Emeril’s potato casserole is just SO WRONG. I am so making some.
I don’t know … I think I wanna see an Iron Chef America between Emeril and Paula Dean – and I wanna be a judge. ;-) They both have mean potato”e” casseroles.
Actually, right after I read what you said, my non-filter thought was, “There are OTHER places than the bed, you know!” [snort!] Glad your hostess chuckled.
Drat – I forgot … hubby wanted to know – did you have to kill those nice sweet people you were recently with – the ones who have the photos of you with the little plastic guitar so that they won’t be posted on flickr?
Also filterless…sounds like a cigarette, doesn’t it? Creepy. See? No filter.
Still awaiting the sequel, but assume you didn’t wake up in a pile of wood shards and mangled wrought iron???
woah. I need me some of those potatoes.
Hilarious ALWAYS trumps filter. Sorry, filter.
Jenn, I agree! As I read that recipe I thought, “This is remarkable reminiscent of Fat Potato Fat Fat.” In other words, yum!
FILTER?!?!? We’re supposed to have a filter?!?!
Paula Deen, “the 1st ingriedient in all my recipes is 1 stick of butter”………..she’s the creator of the Pumpkin, Gooey Butter Cake!!!
Happy New Year Mir!!!
Filter, schmilter. Nobody writes like you my girl – and filters get in the way of that. Michael Chabon says writers can’t keep secrets – so there you are.
Emeril’s recipe handily does not include a calorie count. It also says it serves 12. Like anyone’s going to take dainty servings–of potato casserole with butter and cheese and sour cream and heavy cream? Yeah, right.