Lasagna is my favorite. Especially at my mama’s. So when she told me she would be having me over for lasagna dinner on July 13th, I was understandably excited. We all marked our calendars. Then the other day I was leaving her house when I saw her daily planner:
Lasagna + Kill. She’s not exactly diabolical with her scheming, having posted it on her public wall calendar and all, but I was suspicious nonetheless. So, I casually asked her what the “plus kill” part of her day might involve on the 13th, and she got all flustered and mumbled something about it being related to my nephew Killian, who nobody has ever called “Kill” in his life (although “Killer Miller” is going to be the coolest nickname ever when he eventually enters the highschool sporting arena). I nodded in acknowledgement and got the hell out of there.
Is there an antedote to poisoned lasagna?