Mom, did you know that American bread is far superior to Canadian bread? Well, apparently so; or atleast according to Dad and MsB. I suspect MsB was the ringleader in this, as I have been bread shopping with her, and she has a definite opinion when it comes to bread; NONE of our Canadian bread passed her poke test.

So I get a call last night from Lexter, at 1:40AM, waking me right out of a solid sleep. Given I hear from her so little, I didn’t mind. Plus I worked today at 10am, and only work till 3pm, then have another 2 days off. Oh, and of course I only had $5 left on my phone, so of course that’s when the rat chooses to call me. I was hoping to cruise on that $5 till payday next Friday.

Anywho, the Lexter on the other end of the line was slightly hysterical, laughing uncontrollably.

So yesterday they had some friends over, hanging out in the kitchen of course, when up the driveway appears this car. Who’s that Lex says.

Well, what do you know, she got her dates wrong. It was THIS weekend they were coming up, not next. Dad made the mistake of talking to Bob this week, and of course anything that enters Bobs ears is quickly forgotten; unless it in some way is in reference to either the Toronto Maple Leafs, or anything even remotely about fishing, in one ear, out the other.

While they were helping them unload the car, it was then the party was introduced to ….tada….THE GRAND GIANT LOAF OF BREAD. She was instructed to reverently carry the precious loaf into the house, being extra careful not to manhandle it, or squish it in any way. For the rest of the eve, Dad expounded on the great and superior quality of this bread. Everyone I guess was lectured on its great longevity, its exceptional flavour, and its extra deliciousness when accompanied by, of course, Peanut Butter.

OH, praise be the GRAND LOAF.

Yes, and Lex explained how looking forward Dad was to his sandwich today, and on all the sandwiches he will enjoy for the next Month at the Homestead.

Well, perhaps not. No, perhaps not.

I am getting ahead of myself though. First I should explain something. That something being the black diva that goes by the name of Stella, who now resides at the Homestead. Once again the Homestead has a dog in residence, as it should.

However, Dad doesn’t particularly care for Stella. Nothing against her, other than that she is a dirty, hair ridden DOG that most certainly has a mind of her own, and well, lets just say there isn’t any love loss between the two. Ms Stella knows the score – MsB GOOD, Dada BAD.

So, after the party died down, and all were tucked in their beds, Lex was still up…doing what I have no idea…being the night owl she is.

Dad had left clear instructions that his precious bread could not reside in the drawer with the other, more COMMON bread. No, I don’t know, maybe the inferiority of Canadian bread would somehow infect his superior AMERICAN bread, so out on the counter it sat.

Or, rather, out on the counter until Ms Stella decided she would have a few samples of this wonderful bread BAD Dada had been waxing so eloquently about all eve. From the state in which she left said bread, I’m thinking maybe she didn’t find it as tasty as Dad and MsB.

Nor, will Dada be having any sandwiches with it today, as Ms Stella made damn sure she had completely wrecked it for human consumption.

Never a dull moment at the Homestead Mom, should be a fun Sunday. I do believe Lexters hysterics probably had something to do with Dad’s reaction this morning when he comes downstairs, looking forward to one of MsB’s egg sandwiches made with his precious bread. Would LOVE to be a bug on the wall for that conversation.

I’m thinking Ms Stella may want to lay low for a while.

Always,