When the cat’s away…

…the mice buy cheese.

How I shop when my lactose intolerant husband is off on business.

Umm…I may have some issues.

Also. Come back tomorrow. K? Come back tomorrow.

Oh, and come back tomorrow.

Write that down maybe. Come back tomorrow.

And tomorrow? Come back.

13 Comments

Filed under Humor

13 responses to “When the cat’s away…

  1. this is how Dear Sweet Mama shops when she comes to visit me without the (lactose-intolerant) Concubine. We go to the store and she fills my house with cheese… which is just ONE of her many endearing qualities!

  2. Mmmmm…cheese. Is there some cream cheese in there? I love that stuff.

  3. are you going to be handing out cheese tomorrow? because you KNOW I am down with that.

    mmmmm.

  4. Mmmmm cheeeezzzzzeeeeeee……………..

  5. Man, you better get started – that’s quite a bit of cheese to chow down on!

  6. I’m on my way…this was a dinner invitation, right?
    Or was Katie right? You’re giving away cheese tomorrow? Oh please say yes!

  7. Mmmm….cheese.
    Also? Tomorrow? I should come back tomorrow?
    Are you bribing me with cheese? Please?

  8. Num num num – I love the cheese.

  9. I’ll be right over for some cheese. Got some wine?

  10. Oh I will most certainly come back tomorrow!!!

    And I love me some cheese, it would be so hard to love a lactose intolerant man.

  11. I love cheese. I could eat cheese all day…everyday. Should I come back for cheese tomorrow?

  12. When the cat’s away, the mice … buy cheese?

    Huh.

    This is *so* embarrassing. I’ve been reciting that saying ALL WRONG.

  13. Mmmm! Cheese is my favorite.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s