first heart attack

I made the mistake had the great pleasure of having the SO accompany me on a journey through Whole Foods Saturday evening. That meant having to go down the refrigerated aisle--one that I rarely go through on my own.

When I was a kid, my mother discovered that I'd eat just about anything as long as it had spaghetti sauce on it. She didn't always indulge me, but we were both thankful when broccoli was served on the same night as chicken cacciatore or chicken parmigiana (after my stepfather's first heart attack, it was "chicken something" just about every night). Not much has changed since then except that I no longer eat chicken.