picklesI’m addicted to pickles.  Sweet pickles.  Dill pickles.  Deli pickles that are as big as your fist.  I even like Larry the Cucumber.  I’m not partial. 🙂

My sister shares this love with me.  In high school, we used to make pickle runs to my Grandma’s house to raid her canned collection. 

I was at my sister’s house a few years ago, and she offered me a pickle.  It was the BEST (non-homemade) pickle ever.  That day my sister introduced me to the joy of Vlasic pickles.    

The next time I was at the grocery store, I went on a mission.  I don’t know if you’ve seen the Vlasic aisle at the store, but it’s about 10 feet by 10 feet.  I was like a kid in a candy store; I didn’t know what to get! 

After minutes of staring, I finally grabbed a jar and shoved it in my cart.  I could barely wait to get home and sink my teeth into this lovely morsel!  By the time I got home, I probably had drool hanging out of my mouth. 

I opened the jar (by myself!) and took a big bite. It was the worst taste ever!  I spat my mouthful in the trash can and drank a glass of water.  I had never encountered such a foul-tasting pickle. 

I looked at the jar, confused.  What in the world did I buy?

Tobasco flavored pickles. 

Moral of the story:  Don’t buy a jar of pickles without double-checking the label first.


~ by Serena on June 15, 2009.

3 Responses to “Pickles”

  1. Make some salsa…………

  2. ha ha ha! I hope the jar I sent you is better 🙂 Love you!

  3. Serena- I remember when you told this story right before Faithquest and gave us the little pickle ornaments. i still have that ornament. And I still think of that story every time I see it and I still remember you encouraging us to remember that some things aren’t always what we expect they’ll be…

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