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Oh, to be loved...

Someone likes me. Someone really likes me. At least one person who isn't named Thelma has read my blog. I have documented proof. Hannah left a real live, honest-to-goodness, genuine comment on my post about Angry Pasta.

"Sounds like heaven," she said. Heaven. Not good. Not interesting. Heaven.

It has me wondering, though. Maybe it's all relative. (The comment. Not the person. Is your wife's cousin considered a relative?) Hannah has the distinction of being one of the few people I cooked for when I was a sophomore at Brigham Young and still dating Thelma. Just about any recipe I post now will sound heavenly compared to my grilled chicken thighs complete with skin and bone.

I was poor. It was the only chicken I could afford at Food4Less. My mission and a shortened summer had consumed my savings and left me little chance to work. Plus, I was saving up to buy Thelma an Orange Julius. Do you have any idea what those cost in 1995? Enough to buy a lot of chicken thighs.

Whatever the truth behind Hannah's comments, I'll take them. It's undeniable proof that someone has read my blog. Rumor has it that Janet has read it as well. That puts my sum readership at 3. Now I don't have to feel bad when I see someone wearing the t-shirt pictured above at work.

Comments

Jennifer said…
You can safely update your number to 5, Adam. I am a loyal reader and look for updates daily. Often Enoch is walking by when I'm laughing at your wit and wisdom and I tell him that he HAS to read your latest post. He's become a pretty loyal fan as well. Keep the posts coming.

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