One of the most enjoyable side effects of writing this blog is hearing feedback. I love it when my faithful editors alert me about a typo that I missed despite my attempts at laser-focused proofreading; I love it when someone points out another angle or asks questions; I love it when people joke about something I’ve mentioned. After Wednesday’s post about reusing pickle juice, my dad had some thoughts which spurred a discussion that had me laughing as I went to bed and in stitches again the next morning despite the fact that it had been a really hard couple of days. I’d be remiss not to share it, but first a note of context: my dad and I both possess a love of the Claussen brand pickles (he likes the whole kosher dills and I like the minis), but they aren’t available at the few places I “shop”, so he gets them for me when they’re in stock at his grocery store. One of my favorite aspects of this DAD Talk is that at the time of its occurrence and at the time of this writing, he is actually in possession of a jar of Claussen minis that he’s been saving for a day warm enough for a visit. With no further ado, I present Episode 1 (my dad’s text is black on grey and mine is white on blue):
Yes, I know I also mistyped “the” when I should have typed “they”, but I rather like the autocorrect invention of “potsticker dance”, so we might have to get choreographic next time they’re on the dinner menu.
Like father like daughter – it is amazing to read the read the similarities between you two!! 😂 Also, I read “Claussen” as “Claussian”, as if it were a pickle-centric philosophical school of thought. 😂